Gifts
by ghost02
Summary: Finished! B/S, parallel of early S4 events but NO chip and little Initiative or Riley involvement.
1. Default Chapter

TITLE: Gifts   
AUTHOR: Kelso   
RATING: Probably R eventually, but chapter 1 is PG.   
SPOILERS: minor references to S1-3 events, plus major spoilers for S4, particularly "The Freshman" through "Something Blue"   
SUMMARY: Set in S4. Buffy has a secret admirer. 

DISTRIBUTION: anywhere  
DISCLAIMER: "Buffy" and "Angel" characters belong to Joss Whedon.   
NOTES: Set in season 4. I changed the timeline around so events don't always occur in the order they did on the show.   
  
  
  
  
Gifts 1/? 

The lurking figure in the alleyway straightened to attention. His fifth cigarette had burnt down nearly to his fingers, but she was finally coming. He stood perfectly still as they approached within hearing range, ears pricked to better pick out her words from among those of her unimportant companions. 

"What do you think of Professor Smythe?" asked the redhead, Willow. 

"She's boring," the dark-haired buffoon, Xander, replied. 

"*He* is my favorite teacher," corrected the golden-haired Slayer, the one he had been waiting for. 

"Yeah, Xander, it's hard to form an accurate opinion when you've never even seen the people we're talking about," Willow said with a chuckle. 

"Not my fault. You know that school wouldn't--" Xander stopped speaking as Buffy whirled and glanced around, scanning the darkness. "Something wrong?" Xander asked, taking a look himself. 

Buffy shrugged and resumed walking. "I guess not. It's just that I had the strangest feeling. Kinda like...I don't know, like someone just stepped on my grave. Know what I mean?" 

Willow and Xander shook their heads and chorused, "Nope." 

"Oh, you guys," Buffy grumbled affectionately. "Well, forget it. It's probably just me being paranoid about starting college and probably failing all my classes. I still can't quite believe I got in." 

They wandered off down the street, laughing and chatting. As soon as they reached the next crossroad, the figure in the alley emerged from the shadows. He'd waited all that time, only to hear a mere scrap of conversation. It had still been worth it. He dropped the smoldering cigarette and crushed it beneath his boot as he began to think about which gift he would send the Slayer first. 

***** 

Two days later, Buffy wandered the edges of the campus. It was past dusk and she knew she ought to be patrolling or studying, but after the day she'd had, she couldn't bring herself to engage in either activity. She was so engrossed in staring at the ground and feeling sorry for herself that she nearly walked right into Willow. 

"Hey! Buffy!" Willow greeted her. "What's up?" 

Buffy glanced up and forced a smile that died before it could reach her eyes. "Not much, really." 

Willow fell into step beside her friend. "What's wrong? You look kinda upset, with the frowny face and all." 

"Professor Walsh gave me a D on our first psych assignment. I can't seem to do anything right in any of my classes, especially that one." 

"Just keep trying," Willow encouraged. "You'll start doing better in no time." 

"Yeah, well, that's easy for you to say. You could get straight A's without straining one muscle. Oh, wait, you already do." 

Willow's face fell. "Buffy, I'm sorry--" 

"No, Wills, I'm the one who's sorry," Buffy apologized. "I didn't mean it like that." 

"It's okay." Willow thought for a moment. "How about we work on the next assignment together? That essay that's due Friday. I can help you fine-tune it." 

"Which would imply that it's tuned in the first place," Buffy said ruefully. "Oh, all right. It can't hurt, and God knows I need all the help I can get." 

Willow frowned. "Look, I'm going to meet Oz and we're going out for something to eat. You want to come?" 

"No, thanks. I'm just going to head back to my room." The last thing Buffy wanted to do was to ruin Willow's night out. 

"Okay." Willow smiled reassuringly before she trotted off. 

Alone again, Buffy plodded along, head down, as depressed as she'd been since Angel's departure. No wonder she'd been called as the Slayer. She certainly didn't have the brains to do anything else, like get an average grade in a basic college course. Not that she even felt like a worthy Slayer nowadays. Her lack of confidence at school was spreading to all other areas of her life, as well. 

She was about to turn and head back to the dorm when a scream sounded from the patch of woods to her right. Buffy instinctively broke into a run and cut through the nearest patch of bushes. After about 50 yards she burst into a clearing, where a ring of six vampires surrounded a brunette girl she vaguely recognized from philosophy class. 

Buffy grabbed her handy stake and swung into action, lunging at the nearest vamp and stabbing it in the back. It dissolved into dust almost before it had a chance to realize it was under attack. The remaining five vampires hissed and turned upon her, game faces showing. 

"Run!" Buffy yelled at the coed as the vampires attacked. She punched one in the face, elbowed another in the gut, and kicked a third away, but then found herself grabbed and pinned by the last two. 

The female vampire Buffy had punched stalked over to her and shook her mane of blonde hair. "Well, well, what have we here? I believe it's the infamous Slayer. You're wandering around the wrong neck of the woods, honey. This is my territory, and you won't live to regret your mistake." She grinned evilly around her fangs and leaned toward Buffy's neck. 

As the blonde spread her jaws, a low growl sounded from the bushes behind them. The vampire hesitated and stared in that direction. A flicker of what looked like fear crossed her face before she stepped back and retracted her fangs. "On second thought, I'll let you go with just a warning this time. Remember my name, and remember to stay out of Sunday's territory in the future. Let her go," the vampire instructed her companions. 

They released Buffy and stepped away, following Sunday into the woods. Buffy whirled around and scanned the darkness behind her. Something had scared the gang leader, but what? Or more precisely, who? "Angel?" she called tentatively. "Is that you?" 

***** 

Safely obscured near a clump of fir trees, Spike snarled softly. He'd done a bit of asking around and learned that Angel had left town months ago, with hardly a backward glance. Rumor had it he was camping out in L.A. with one of the Slayer's female friends. So the older vampire wasn't within hailing distance, yet the Slayer automatically assumed Angel was her savior. Well, she'd learn soon enough who really deserved her gratitude. It wouldn't do to show himself and overplay his hand so early in the game, but Spike planned to reveal his identity at the right moment. Until then, though, he had a few matters to take care of--one being a nice little conversation with Sunday and her gang. 

End Ch. 1 


	2. The First Gift

  
Gifts 2/? 

By the following afternoon, Buffy still hadn't figured out what had frightened away Sunday and her gang. Anyone who could scare a pack of vampires had to be very powerful indeed. She'd suspected Angel, but would he really just lurk about and hide from her? Then again, who else would both *want* to help her *and* be imposing enough to scare off the vamps? It had to be Angel, didn't it? Except that she hadn't sensed his presence and he hadn't answered when she'd called his name. She didn't think he'd let her worry needlessly. Anyway, maybe whatever had turned up had no connection to her at all. Her thoughts led her in a circle, and she was left with no good explanation. 

Since she hadn't gotten in touch with Giles yet, Buffy decided to run her ideas past Willow while they ate lunch in the college cafeteria. She finished her recap with, "It was really weird. The vampire was all set to bite me and then she acted like she'd seen a ghost. She couldn't leave me alone fast enough. At first I thought maybe Angel's been watching over me and he scared her away but now I'm not so sure." 

Willow looked up from her peanut-butter sandwich. "Huh? What was that, Buffy? I was lost in thought about chemistry class." 

"Nothing," Buffy muttered. "I was just thinking out loud, I guess." She really couldn't blame Willow for her lack of attention. Her friend was blossoming in an environment in which knowledge was not only desired, but rewarded. It wasn't fair to expect her to have vamps and other assorted nasty creatures on her mind all the time. "Look, I'm gonna go back to my room now and get my stuff for my next class. See you later." Buffy grabbed her tray and went to the nearest garbage can. As she was about to dump her trash, a young man bumped into her. Buffy barely managed to balance her tray and keep the contents from spilling all over the floor. 

"Whoa! I'm so sorry," apologized the guy, flashing a blinding white smile. "Excuse me." 

He was pretty cute, Buffy noted, with dark-brown hair and a nice build. Polite, too. She smiled back. "That's okay, no harm done." She pitched her garbage and set the tray aside. 

"Hey, don't I know you? From music appreciation class?" the boy asked. 

Buffy shook her head. "No, this is my first semester and I'm not taking that course." 

"Somewhere else, then. By the way, my name is Parker Abrams." He extended his hand. 

She shook it. "Buffy Summers." 

"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you around, Buffy." Parker smiled one last time before he turned and went back to his table. 

She wouldn't mind running into him again, Buffy decided. He seemed like a great guy, and it was about time she got back into the dating scene. Even Angel had wanted her to do so. She'd keep an eye out for Parker in the future. 

***** 

Ensconced in the study of his new lair, Spike waited for his guest to arrive. He'd sent a fledgling to summon Sunday, the vampire that had attacked Buffy. It wasn't even twilight yet, but that didn't matter. Spike had carefully chosen his base: an abandoned building that had full sewer access, which allowed for extra mobility during daylight hours. He would be able to come and go during emergency situations. He could also receive visitors at all hours. 

A tentative tap sounded on the door and a voice called, "She's here, master." 

"Send her in," Spike instructed. 

The door opened and Sunday sauntered in, affecting an air of bravado. "I heard you wanted to see me. Well, here I am." 

Yeah, anything that looked as slutty as her immediately lost credibility in Spike's eyes. Sunday had the attitude, but not the fashion sense. And she *really* had to do something about her hair. Spike slowly lit a cigarette and took a deep drag before speaking. "Saw you yesterday with your gang. I could tell you were the leader of the pack and the only one worth bothering with." 

Sunday preened, practically glowing from the praise. "I figured my reputation might have preceded me." 

"Not really. This is about what I saw you try to do to the Slayer. Friendly warning, pet: Fangs off. Slayer's mine. You'd best pass the word to your mates, too. Leave that one strictly to me." 

Sunday scowled. "If she comes into my territory again, I'll defend myself." 

"I think you mean *my* territory," Spike firmly corrected. "You want your own, you might want to head to greener pastures. South of the border, for instance." 

"I'll think about it," Sunday said with a pout. 

"You do that." Spike twirled his chair around in a clear sign that the other vampire was dismissed. He listened as Sunday sashayed out of the room, attempting to save face. He thought he might have neutralized her, but then again, she might really be as stupid as she looked. If so, he'd soon find out and take care of the problem. Spike put her out of his mind and turned his attention to other concerns. 

Months ago, Dru had told him he was in love with the Slayer, and she'd been right. Oh, Spike had been in denial for some time, but he'd eventually accepted, even embraced, the truth. He was a vamp who wasn't afraid of being in touch with his inner feelings. If he loved a Slayer, it was right. In fact, Spike figured he could probably find a prophecy or two about him and his Slayer, if he bothered to dig around in some of those old books. Maybe he'd make a minion do that one of these days, but at the moment he had more important matters to attend to. 

He had to convince the Slayer of his love. He realized, of course, that this might take a while. Although he wasn't the most patient of vampires, he was determined to do it right. He didn't want to scare her away by moving too quickly. If he was dealing with Dru, he'd just torture her into loving him again. But he didn't think that approach would work so well with the Slayer. He had to soften her up first, prove his sincerity. She was human; she'd expect little gifts and suchlike. 

He'd thought about giving Buffy an amulet first but then remembered the cross necklace she sometimes liked to wear. He wasn't sure if she'd give it up for a new piece from a secret admirer. So he selected a ring instead. Spike was pleased with his choice. The witch he'd taken it from had insisted it was an ancient piece that had long ago been enchanted with a protection spell that would shield the wearer. He'd killed the witch, so that she wouldn't do anything vengeful like cast a curse on the item once he was away with it. 

It would make a fitting gift for Buffy, help keep her safe until he could claim her. Spike was taking other precautions, as well. He was already consolidating his power base in Sunnydale, getting the general vampire population under his control. The Slayer would, therefore, face fewer opponents and stand a lesser chance of being harmed. The ring was just a little something extra he thought she'd like. Spike carefully packaged his first present and called to one of the more intelligent minions. He wanted his offering to be hand-delivered. 

***** 

Later that evening, Buffy made her way back to her dorm room. With Willow, Oz, and Xander helping, patrol hadn't taken as long as usual. Plus, she'd started pretty early, and the almost complete absence of vamps and other demons had also helped. 

She was prepared to quietly let herself into her room in case her roommate, Kathy, was sleeping, but she saw a light shining under the door and heard the Cher song "Believe" playing. Kathy didn't know Buffy was the Slayer and Buffy was determined to keep things that way. She'd been left with little choice but to go with the "night owl" cover story to explain her nocturnal ramblings. Since the other girl was still up, though, Buffy didn't have to worry about the situation for tonight. She slipped inside, prepared to go to bed right away and get some much-needed rest for tomorrow. 

As she entered the room, Kathy looked up from a thick textbook and pointed to a small box on the desk. "Hey, someone dropped that package off for you earlier." 

"Thanks." Buffy picked up the plainly wrapped parcel and tore off the paper. Inside the box lay a deep-red gem in a burnished gold setting. It was a lovely ring, and very old-looking. "It's beautiful," Buffy breathed. 

Kathy stood up and peered over her shoulder. "Yeah, it sure is. I didn't know you had a boyfriend." 

"I don't. Not exactly." Buffy sifted through the packaging, fruitlessly searching for a card. "Did you see who brought this?" 

"No. I heard a knock on the door and when I opened it, no one was there. Whoever it was left the box on the floor," Kathy replied, already losing interest in the situation. 

Buffy slipped the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit. Maybe Angel *was* back, after all... 

End Ch. 2 


	3. Sunday

Gifts 3/? 

The next evening, Sunday was still smarting over her conversation with Spike. She lay back in the plush green recliner she'd stolen from a freshman just last week and felt sorry for herself. Who did Spike think he was? Okay, so he was about a hundred and something years old. Well, so what. Who was he to just waltz back into town and take over like it was his right? 

Realistically, though, Sunday was well aware she was no physical match for the other vampire. To stand any chance against him, she'd have to rely on her wits, or maybe just overwhelm him with sheer numbers. Yeah, that was it. She'd get her gang to back her up, and then Spike would see what a mistake he'd made in ordering her around. Sunday grinned devilishly. She had to hand it to herself; when she came up with an idea, it was a darn good one. She wasn't going to let Spike intimidate her for one more minute. He'd warned her to stay away from the Slayer, so the first thing she was going to do was defy him. 

She looked around the den. The other four vampires were all there, pawing through boxes of loot they'd stolen from unlucky students. Perfect. Sunday jumped up and called for attention. "Guys! I have a plan. Flash, go find out which dorm room is the Slayer's. Her real name is Buffy Summers." 

Flash didn't move. "What are we going to do? Go kill her?" 

"Nah, we're just going to rip off her stuff. I bet she'll be so embarrassed she runs back home without telling anyone, then we'll never have to think about her again." 

Theresa slowly raised her hand. "Um, Sunday? Are you sure it's going to work? I mean, what if she goes crying to Spike? I don't want any trouble with him." 

"Hey! Who's the leader here, you or me?" Sunday yelled. 

"Uh..." 

Sunday transformed into vamp face and glared at the group. "That wasn't a trick question. The answer is me, dummy. *I'm* the leader. *I* give the orders, and all of you listen. Now, get to work. I want to pull this off tonight." 

***** 

"Master Spike." His right-hand minion, Gregory, poked his head into the study. "I have the information you asked for." 

Spike spun his chair around to face the doorway. "Yeah, let's hear it." 

Gregory stepped inside and stood in front of the desk. "Sunday and her pack have been camping out in the abandoned Phi Theta fraternity house on the south side of the UC Sunnydale campus. According to what I was told, they've been feeding off of college students and stealing their belongings." 

Spike thought for a moment. If the gang continued to operate on campus, it was bound to run into the Slayer. He wondered if Sunday had been following his order to steer clear of her. Well, there was one sure way to find out. "Right, then." Spike glanced at the clock. "Gregory, here's what I want you to do. Slayer should be heading out on patrol 'bout now. That works out nicely." He picked up a wrapped box about the size of a book. "Take this package and drop it off like you did with the one the other night. You say you left it outside the door and the roommate took it in?" 

"Yes, master." 

"Good enough. You do that, and I'm going out myself for a bit." 

***** 

Later that evening, Spike skulked onto the UC Sunnydale campus, keeping a wary eye out for Buffy or any of her friends. If Gregory was correct, he had to find an abandoned building on the east side of the area. He avoided as many of the annoying students as he could and soon found himself venturing into a quiet wooded area. From there, it was only a short distance to an old wreck of a building that matched the description he'd been given. Spike heard rustling sounds and laughter coming from inside, and paused outside the front door to listen. 

First, he recognized Sunday's voice. "It was just too easy. Wait until she leaves, get invited in, grab the stuff, and here we are." 

"It's a bad haul, though," someone else protested. "What do we have here? A bunch of junk." 

"Come on, it's hilarious," Sunday replied. "Look at this: a stuffed pig? A diary? We can have a field day with it! I'm telling you, the Slayer'll be so embarrassed we'll never even see her again." 

Spike had heard enough. He leaped up the front steps, shoved open the wobbly front door, and shot into the cluttered main room, where the five vampires were scattered about, examining their loot. "Now, Sunday, I warned you." 

"Spike." Her mouth dropped open before she put on a show of defiance. "Hey, *I* told *you*--this is my area, and I'm not giving it up. We have every right to stay here." 

Spike nodded. "Sure, you can stay here if you want. My problem is, that over there is the Slayer's stuff." 

"No, it isn't," protested a fat vampire who was holding a psychology textbook. 

Spike sidestepped a pile of CDs and edged closer to the pack. "Don't try to shit me. I *know* it's her stuff." 

"Okay, so what if it is?" Sunday dropped the skirt she'd been examining. 

"I warned you," Spike reminded her. 

"Yeah, well, I've been thinking about that." 

"And what exactly have you been thinking?" Spike pressed. 

Sunday took a step toward him. "I've been thinking a lot of things. Right now, I'm thinking there are five of us and only one of you. That's what I'm thinking." 

Spike stood his ground. "I'm thinking, too. I'm thinking that I'm older than all five of you put together, not to mention smarter." 

"Five against one," Sunday repeated. "C'mon, gang. Let's get him!" 

Spike rolled his eyes. He liked a good spot of violence as well as the next vampire, but this was simply pathetic. 

A handful of blocks, kicks, parries, and punches later, Spike and Sunday were the only two vamps left standing. A snap of the neck after that, and Spike and five piles of dust remained. It hadn't been amateur hour after all. In fact, it had barely been amateur minute. Spike brushed off his hands and decided he was going to make damn sure the Slayer eventually learned the indignities he'd had to endure on her behalf. 


	4. The Second Gift

_Because of all the technical problems at FanFiction.net, I couldn't post here for ages but I was still working on the story. I'm going to post a few chapters tonight, then a few more over the next couple days until I'm caught up. _

Following a late meeting for a group project in philosophy class, Buffy clutched her textbook and a handful of papers as she hurried back to her dorm room. She hadn't realized college would require quite so much outside-of-class work, but she'd found herself having to gather with her partners at an odd time to work on the assignment. She glanced at her watch and quickened her pace; she was supposed to meet Willow so they could go out on patrol together. 

A gust of wind whipped up and stole the papers from her grip, scattering them on the ground. Buffy dropped down and attempted to collect the material before the wind could carry the pages any farther away. 

"Here, let me help you." The young teaching assistant from her psychology course, Riley Finn, knelt beside her. Together, they successfully corralled all the loose sheets. 

"Thanks." Buffy accepted the papers Riley handed her and added them to her own stack. 

Riley's gaze settled on the large ring adorning Buffy's hand. "Pretty stone," he noted. 

"Yeah, it is," Buffy agreed with a smile. 

"Well." Riley stood. "I'd better let you get going." 

"Right. Thanks again." As Buffy moved away, she could sense Riley's eyes following her. Now that she thought about it, he had been looking at her a lot lately during psych class. And he'd made a point of mentioning her ring. 'I wonder...' Buffy thought. 

"Buffy, over here!" From down the sidewalk, Willow's voice interrupted her musings. 

"Hey." Buffy joined her friend. 

"You ready to go out on patrol?" 

"Let me drop this stuff off first. I'm running a little late. And I'd better call Giles, too," Buffy remembered as they cut across the lawn toward her dorm. 

"Oh, yeah? Anything wrong?" 

"I don't think so, but you never know. It's just that I had this really creepy dream. When I say creepy, I mean like a demon putting a scorpion on me and pouring blood down my throat, then sucking some sort of light out of me. I have to tell Giles so he can check into it in case it's a prophetic dream." 

"It could just be an ordinary old nightmare, right?" Willow suggested. 

"Yeah, I hope so. But I've had it two nights in a row, so I ought to mention it anyway." Buffy led the way into her room, but stopped short just across the threshold. Her half of the place was devoid of her belongings. Even the bed was stripped bare. 

Kathy looked up from her sprawled position across her own bed. "Buffy. I thought you were moving out. Your friends came and took all your things about an hour ago." 

"My friends," Buffy repeated. 

"Right, five of them." 

"Did they say their names? What did they look like?" 

"There was this blonde girl with really funky hair, and one of the guys was wearing a T-shirt with a skull on it. I love how they insisted I invite them into the room before they'd come inside." 

"Oh, shit," Buffy muttered. "Did you see which way they went when they left?" 

Kathy shrugged. "They turned right when they went out of the room. That's all I know. They're not *my* friends." 

Buffy threw her armload of papers onto her bed and bolted out the door, with Willow in close pursuit. 

"Hey!" Kathy yelled from behind them. "You got another present, too!" 

"No time to worry about that," Buffy decided as she rushed down the stairs. "The vamp gang must have taken my stuff. I'm going to kill them!" 

"Buffy, if they were here a whole hour ago, they could be anywhere by now," Willow pointed out. 

Ignoring her, Buffy dashed down the remaining steps and burst out the door into the night air. She wildly looked around the campus, which was lit only by safety lights. She didn't see a group toting her belongings, but a girl was sitting on the dorm steps, reading a manual. Buffy tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, have you been here a while? Did you see a group of people come by here carrying boxes about an hour ago?" 

"Yeah, they went that way." The girl pointed. 

"See?" Buffy said to Willow. "We have a general idea now. Maybe we can find them." The two hurried across the campus, following directions from a few more students who had also seen the pack. Soon, they ended up on the outskirts of the grounds, facing the woods. "They must have a lair nearby if they were carrying the stuff," Buffy decided. 

"Buffy, maybe we should get some help or weapons or something," Willow suggested. 

Buffy shook her head. "No time for that. I'm going to find them and get this over with. Pushing me around is one thing. Breaking into my room is another." 

"In that case..." Willow nodded to the left. "Look over there. It's an old building." 

Buffy peered through the shrubs. "It looks like a perfect vamp nest. Let's check it out." They cautiously approached the ramshackle building, which appeared to be deserted. Buffy stood very still for a moment. "I don't hear anything, but they could be sleeping. Let me go in first." She motioned for Willow to stay back while she crept into the building. 

The place was quiet but lit by a few small lamps in the main room. They gave off more than enough light to reveal to Buffy that no vamps were present, but her prized possessions had been picked over by the gang. Even... 

"Hey!" Buffy cried indignantly. "My diary!" 

"What is it?" Willow called from outside. 

"Come on in, it's safe for now!" Buffy yelled back. She began to pile her things back into boxes as Willow walked in. "I think those vamps were trying on my stuff," Buffy complained. "If they were here right now, I'd dust them." She thought for a second. "Okay, if they were here right now, I'd *try* to dust them. I haven't exactly been operating at my best lately." 

Willow glanced around. "You know, it's not just your stuff in here. They must have been robbing a bunch of other people, too." 

"I'll definitely have to come back later and put them out of business permanently," Buffy agreed. "Well, come back with some backup, of course. It shouldn't so hard now that we know where they're based. But for right now, I want to haul some of these things back to my room. I'll make another trip back for the rest later." 

Together, Buffy and Willow sorted out the most important of the items, then piled them into boxes and toted them back to the dorm. They entered Buffy's room to find Kathy scowling at them. 

"Buffy, I tried to tell you before you ran out before, but you got another present," her roommate greeted them. "And I guess you're not moving out after all. I don't like to complain, but if stuff like this is going to keep happening then the least you could do is warn me." 

Buffy ignored her and retrieved the box from Kathy's bedside table. It bore simply the name "BUFFY" in block printing across the top. "Okay, nice gesture but a card would be helpful." She removed the plain wrapping and lifted the top off of the box. 

"What is it this time?" Willow asked. "A necklace?" 

"No." Buffy carefully pulled the item out of the box and displayed it to her friend. "It's a dagger. Now, isn't that a weird present?" 


	5. Misinterpretation

Neither Willow nor Buffy had classes the next afternoon, so it was an ideal time to meet with Giles. Oz was busy, but a currently unemployed Xander was more than willing to come along. They gathered in Giles' living room, where Buffy summarized the recent goings-on: her bizarre dreams, the situation with the gang of vampire thieves, and the two anonymous gifts she had received. 

She concluded her story with, "Xander, Willow, Oz, and I all went back to the vamp lair this morning with weapons to try to catch the gang off guard but no one was there. They might have just holed up somewhere else for the day, but who knows where or why." 

"Buffy, may I examine the ring?" Giles asked. 

"Sure." She pulled it off her finger and passed it across the table to him. 

"Well?" Xander prompted. "What is it?" 

"I can't tell from just a glance," Giles informed him. "Gemology is hardly my area of expertise. I shall have to do some research." 

"The stone looks like a ruby," Willow guessed. 

"Possibly," Giles agreed. "Which in and of itself means nothing. Whatever the stone, this ring could be any of a number of things: cursed or enchanted, for instance. Or it might simply be an ordinary ring. However, we'd rather be safe than sorry." 

"What about the other gift?" Xander asked. "The knife?" 

"Dagger." Buffy gave Giles the box that contained the small weapon. 

He lifted it out and studied it. "Very intricate workmanship. The hilt is quite fine. I'll research this item, as well. Now, Buffy, have you any idea who has been sending these gifts to you?" 

"My first guess was Angel, until I got the dagger. That just doesn't seem like something he would send me, especially anonymously. Now I don't know who could be doing it. I suppose my only other guess is Riley Finn. He's the teaching assistant in my psychology class and I think he likes me. But why would he send me a dagger, either? Anyway, other than those two, I have no clue." 

Giles tapped his fingers on the table for a moment. "Well, if it is indeed Angel, that will be a great load off of all our minds. Best to contact him immediately and find out. You can use my phone." 

"Right." Buffy stood and slowly moved toward the telephone. 

While she placed the call, the others continued to debate various possibilities. Xander thought Angel was responsible and was annoyed that the vampire was jerking Buffy around again. Willow suspected Riley and thought it was sweet that Buffy had a chance at a normal boyfriend, even if he did have questionable taste in gifts. Giles simply hoped they figured out the individual's identity soon. They hadn't come any closer to agreeing by the time Buffy returned from her call. 

She dropped down onto her chair. "It wasn't Angel." 

"Are you *sure*?" Willow pressed. 

"Yes. It definitely wasn't him. I talked to him directly and he's still in Los Angeles. He hasn't sent me a thing and he had no idea what I was talking about when I asked him." 

Willow smiled. "You really do have a secret admirer, then." 

Buffy frowned. "Yeah, one who sends me weapons as gifts. Must be a Hellmouth thing." 

"Or maybe it's an admirer with a split personality," Xander suggested. "Which is of comfort to no one, including myself." 

Giles cleared his throat. "I'm afraid it is quite possible these presents are not coming from an 'admirer' at all. Look at the evidence: a dagger, a strange ring. These are very disturbing signs. Buffy, you could be in grave danger. I fear these gifts might be coming from an enemy who wants to challenge you. " 

***** 

While Buffy and the others were drawing the wrong conclusions about the anonymous gift-giver, an oblivious Spike was trying to be patient. However, he was fighting a losing battle. He was a vampire of action, and he was anxious to learn if the Slayer had liked his first two offerings. He also had no idea if she had located her belongings yet. The least he could do was go over to her room and leave a helpful note on her door. And if he happened to notice her about, he'd could just check out her hands to see if she was wearing the ring. He had to know if he'd made any progress yet. 

He impatiently waited until it was dark and therefore safe for him to emerge from his den. His little sunlight allergy was seriously cramping his style. He had to be able to approach Buffy during the day as well as at night or his plans would never work out, but Spike figured he had that problem in hand. He had minions slaving away on the solution even as he thought about it. 

He cautiously entered Stevenson Hall and crept up to the Slayer's floor. He had detected no sign of her thus far, which meant chances were, she was in her room. If so, he could lurk outside and wait for her to emerge. He knew from his contacts that she still patrolled almost every night and she was bound to come out sooner or later. 

Moving carefully to avoid attracting any particular attention, Spike approached Buffy's door and hovered outside. He strained his senses and realized she wasn't home. There was no telling when she would show up now. Should he leave a note informing her about the vampire lair? As he considered, Spike noticed something strange. He smelled...well, it wasn't quite a demon, but it wasn't quite human, either. The most likely explanation was it was the scent of a demon trying to pass itself off as human. Whatever it was, the smell was coming from the Slayer's room. Spike wasn't going to let anything happen to Buffy on his watch. If a demon had invaded her home, he would do his best to "take care" of the problem. He raised his hand and firmly tapped on the door. 

"Come in!" called a female voice from inside the room. 

An invitation; how convenient. Spike slipped inside, then shut and secretly locked the door behind himself to ensure privacy. The sole occupant of the room was a perky-looking, dark-haired girl who outwardly appeared to be quite human. "You must be Buffy's roommate." 

"Yeah, I'm Kathy. So, you're a friend of hers?" 

"You could say that." He edged closer and finally placed the masked scent. The "girl" was actually a Mok'tagar demon. From the little he could recall about them, they were extremely dangerous, disagreeable types. "So, you know when Buffy'll be back?" Spike made idle conversation as he pondered what to do. He could blow his cover and warn the Slayer about the situation. He could force the demon to tell him her plans and move on from there. He could allow events to play out as they would, culminating in whatever the demon had in mind. Or, he could simply kill the creature, thus eradicating the problem. It took him about a half second to settle on the last option. 

Spike racked his brain for the most effective method of doing in a Mok'tagar demon. Decapitation, staking, direct sunlight, drawing and quartering, cremating...Oh, screw it. He couldn't remember and decided to go with the tried and true, time-honored neck snap. There was a reason it was a classic. 

"Nice poster," he interrupted the demon's ramble about Buffy's potential whereabouts. He nodded at the ugly picture of Celine Dion on the wall behind Kathy. 

She smiled brightly. "Yeah, isn't it pretty?" 

Just as he had expected, she turned her head to look at the poster. Spike promptly struck, taking out the "girl" with one powerful blow. He dropped the dead body at his feet and waited for it to revert to demon form, but it stubbornly continued to look unrelentingly human. That wouldn't do at all. How would Buffy know he had saved her from possible torture and death if she didn't know her roommate was a demon? Spike poked the body with his foot. "Go on, change. Melt into a pile of goo. Do *something*." No luck. 

What now? As he weighed his options, Spike heard a key scrape at the locked door. In a sterling example of horrible timing, the Slayer was back! He couldn't let her catch him in her room. He could predict the scenario already: Buffy would walk in, spy the vampire she thought was her mortal enemy standing over the dead body of her supposedly human roommate, and immediately attempt to send Spike to the dustbuster. 

While he was fairly confident he could hold his own against her, Spike didn't want to take any unnecessary risks. He scanned the room for an escape route and settled on the windows. He dashed over to the nearest one, pushed the blinds aside, and shoved the window open. As the door began to swing wide, Spike dived out headfirst and twisted in the air so he would at least land on his side instead of his head. Good thing the Slayer lived on only the second story. He bounced hard on the ground, gathered himself, and took off at a dead run. He wasn't going to stick around to hear Buffy's reaction to her "friend's" death. 


	6. PostMortem

The day following the discovery of Kathy's body, a shell-shocked group once again met at Giles' place. Buffy, Oz, Willow, Xander, and Giles were all present to discuss the escalating problems surrounding the Slayer. 

"Aside from having a dead roommate, I'm officially homeless," Buffy noted. "My dorm room is now a crime scene. Oh, well, at least it's a Saturday so I have all weekend to look for another place to live." 

"You can move in with me," Willow offered. "My roommate decided to drop out of school. Side effect of murder on campus." 

"I'm benefitting already from Kathy's death. Somehow that doesn't seem right." 

"That's for sure," Xander agreed. "Suddenly things aren't so innocent anymore. I mean, rings and daggers as gifts are one thing, but dead bodies? Gruesome isn't a harsh enough word for it." 

Buffy winced. "So you're saying the only reason Kathy is dead is because she was my roommate and someone wanted to get to me through her? Gee, I feel special. I mean, I didn't like her much, but I sure never wished anything like that on her." She looked at each of her companions. "I don't want any of you alone until we find and slay the killer. Whoever it is could come after anyone next." 

Willow nodded. "What about your mother?" 

"She's out of town on business for a while so she should be safe. By the time she comes back, we'll have things under control--I hope." 

"What do the police think?" Xander asked. "What did you tell them?" 

Buffy shrugged. "What *could* I tell them? Suspected vampire attack? Evil demon? All I could say was that I found the body and I didn't see who did it. Of course I have my suspicions. No one on campus noticed anything out of the ordinary--no strangers, or noises, or anything really obvious. So we can assume the killer was some sort of demon that can pass itself off as being human. I vote vampire." 

"Yeah, but wouldn't a vamp have drained Kathy instead of breaking her neck?" Oz pointed out. 

Xander nodded. "Right, why would a creature that lives off that stuff let all that blood go to waste? It doesn't make any sense." 

Giles removed his glasses. "On the other hand, Buffy had a recent run-in with a vampire gang that later gained an invitation inside her room. However, complicating matters is the fact that an unknown party stopped those same vampires from killing Buffy just a few nights ago, and we still don't know the identity of the party who has been sending Buffy the packages." 

"We have a starting point, though: Sunday and company." Buffy stood up. "I vote that we go back to their home base and see if they've turned up yet." 

Giles held up a hand. "Wait one moment, Buffy. We have a lot of ground to cover quickly and we should get organized first. Xander, Oz, you two go to the morgue and try to get a close look at Kathy's body to see if you can spot any clues that may have been overlooked. Willow, you can help me with research. Buffy, check out the vampire lair, but be careful." 

Everyone else murmured words of agreement, and the group split up for the time being. 

***** 

Meanwhile, Spike was not a happy vampire. Being wanted for murder didn't bother him a bit, but having Buffy out for his blood did. Matters were not proceeding as he had planned--not at all. 

He was sick and tired of running away from the Slayer. Just once, he wanted *her* to run away from *him*. Well, no, that wasn't quite right. He actually wanted her to treat him with a little respect. After all, he'd made quite a worthy opponent for her. Could have killed her more than once, except for certain unforeseeable circumstances. Every time they'd fought, it seemed that at the critical moment Buffy always got help from her mother, her Watcher, her friends... if he'd known that was the way things were going to be, he would have looked into getting a better support system for himself. 

Bored and disgusted, Spike stalked out of his den and toward the makeshift living room, fangs showing. The few minions and fledglings that stood in his path wisely scuttled away to avoid their master's wrath. Spike didn't spare the lazy things so much as a glare as he threw himself onto the leather sofa and flicked on the television set. Unfortunately, cable hadn't been installed yet and all he got was fuzzy reception on three channels. Damn, now he'd have to kill the minion he'd assigned to take care of entertainment. 

Spike threw aside the useless control and flopped back on the couch, eyes closed. One of the few times he went to the trouble of coming up with an elaborate plan, and look where it got him: absolutely nowhere. If he went to the Slayer and tried to tell her the truth about her demonic roommate, she'd stake him. If he went to her and lied, she'd stake him. And if he never went to her at all she wouldn't even know he was around, which defeated his entire purpose for being in Sunnydale in the first place. He still had to alert her to his presence, convince her of the sincerity of her intentions, and win her over. He wasn't doing too well on any of those counts, and he'd just dug an even deeper hole for himself. Approaching the Slayer as her "human" roommate's murderer was not the way to go about fixing the situation. 

Halting footsteps nearby alerted Spike to the fact that he hadn't even been allowed to sulk in peace. He cracked open one eyelid and saw a fledgling inching toward him. 

"Master Spike?" she whispered. 

"Yeah, what is it?" Spike didn't bother to even try to remember the girl's name. 

She continued in a slightly louder tone. "The minions were digging in the south tunnel as instructed and have made a very important discovery. They said you should come right away." 

A discovery, huh? Was it the item he had hoped for but had never counted on finding? Spike jumped up and hurried out of the room. If he was right in his guess about what his servants had dug up, this moment could mark the turning point in his pursuit of the Slayer. 

***** 

Being pretty experienced at sneaking in and out of various odd places, Xander and Oz encountered little trouble getting inside the morgue. Xander stood guard at the door while Oz located Kathy's body and peeled back the sheet covering her face. 

"Xander," he called softly. "Come look at this." 

Xander checked the hallway one last time, then crossed the room to Oz's side. Together they stood gazing down at a decomposing, brownish corpse that was clearly not human. 

"Kathy was a demon?" Xander said. "Well, that changes things. But how, exactly?" 

Oz shrugged. "Guess we'd better ask Giles." 


	7. Staked

_So far: Spike realized he was in love with Buffy and secretly returned to Sunnydale. He sent her two anonymous gifts. Meanwhile, Buffy encountered a vampire gang that stole her belongings. Spike found out and, still without Buffy's knowledge, dusted the other vampires. While lurking outside Buffy's college dorm room, Spike realized that Buffy's roommate, Kathy, was a demon. He killed her in an effort to protect Buffy, but Kathy stayed in human form when she died. Buffy returned and found her roommate's body. She and her friends were determined to identify the killer. When Xander and Oz looked at Kathy's body, it had finally changed back to demon form. _

Gifts 7/? 

After Oz and Xander returned from the morgue and reported their findings to Giles and Willow, the small group sat deep in thought. 

"What difference does Kathy being a demon make?" Xander wondered. 

Giles sighed. "It could make quite a lot, or possibly none at all. Most of the demons we encounter here on the Hellmouth are evil. However, neutral and good demons also exist. Kathy could well have been one of the latter kinds. The fact that she was attending college and acting as a human lends credence to that theory. Still, we don't have any definitive proof." 

"So we need to figure out what type of demon she was," Willow guessed. 

"Correct." Giles turned to Xander and Oz. "You say her body was decomposing. We know that it took at least several hours for the body to revert to demon form, and the decomposition then proceeded in an extremely rapid manner. I'll see if this information is enough to operate on." 

While Giles selected a volume from his vast book collection, Willow filled in Oz and Xander on their progress in researching the ring and dagger Buffy had received, finishing with, "The ring is definitely enchanted but we're not sure how yet so there's still a big question mark there. As for the dagger, we found a sketch of it in a weapons book. It's one of a kind and it's called the Dagger of Ridana. It was made by a South-American based race of warrior demons called the Erlock." 

Giles cleared his throat. "I believe I've found what we were looking for. This section about the Mok'tagar demon describes Kathy perfectly. Also, do you recall the strange dreams Buffy had? They're part of a ritual relating to this demon. Apparently, Kathy had been attempting to steal Buffy's soul during the night. Hence, the dreams." 

"So, Kathy was a bad demon," Oz summarized. 

"Yes, most definitely very bad," Giles confirmed. "We should count our blessings that she was killed before she could do any irreversible harm to Buffy." 

Willow wrinkled her brow. "Then if Kathy was evil and it's good that she's dead, whoever killed her was being helpful." 

"Which doesn't equate with what we know about Sunday and her gang," Xander objected. "Why would they try to kill Buffy and steal from her, and then help her out?" 

"Because Sunday had nothing to do with Kathy's death!" Willow exclaimed. "Remember Buffy's secret admirer?" 

Giles nodded. "Yes, we do keep coming back to this individual. It's possible we may have misjudged him. We need to provide Buffy with this new information." 

"She hasn't reported back from campus yet?" Oz asked. 

"No, and she's been gone rather a long while. Can you three look for her? Be sure to stay together--we can't let our guard down yet." 

"Okay." Willow stood up, then hesitated. "What about you, Giles? If we leave, you'll be all alone." 

He waved them off. "Don't worry about me. I'll take all necessary precautions. Just find Buffy and pool your knowledge to see if that helps." 

***** 

The abandoned Phi Theta house contained no fresh signs of Sunday and her gang. In no particular hurry to rendezvous with the others, Buffy took advantage of the daylight and scoured the nearby woods for any other possible hideaway, but came up empty. Apparently, the vamps had selected a new, secure home she would have to find the hard way. Putting aside the hunt for the moment, Buffy turned and cut through the woods on her way back to the campus. She was most of the way there when a tingling sensation ran down her spine. It was the same feeling she'd had several nights ago, when she'd been out walking with Willow and Xander. She hadn't figured out what had caused the feeling, but whatever it was, it was close again. 

"Who's there?" she called. "I'm sick of this hide-and-seek garbage. Just show yourself and let's get this over with." 

Her response was a rustling in the bushes to her right. Seconds later, a familiar figure stepped into her path. "Slayer. Long time, no see." 

Buffy stared. The intruder was a very familiar, very unwelcome platinum-haired vampire. "Spike? What are you doing here instead of in South America with your ho? She leave you again for another slimy demon?" 

Spike shook his head. "Nah, I'm here to see you." 

"How did I get so lucky..." Buffy's voice trailed off as a horrible realization struck her. "It was *you*. *You* killed Kathy and you've been stalking me." 

"Wasn't like that, luv. I mean, yeah, I did in your little friend, but you ought to be thanking me for that. You don't know what she really was." 

"I'm thinking an innocent victim? And what are you doing out and about during the day, anyway? I know it's nice and shady under the trees but if you set even one foot in the wrong spot, you're dust." Buffy edged closer and noted that Spike had carefully positioned himself in a sheltered spot. All she had to do was either stake him or drag him into a handy patch of sunlight and the entire nightmare would be over. 

As she crept forward, Spike retreated a few steps. "None of that, now. I didn't come here to fight you." 

"That's too bad, because few things would give me more pleasure than kicking your ass." Buffy lunged at Spike and punched him in the jaw, sending him reeling. 

He made a quick recovery and took up a defensive position. "Will you just listen to me? I want to tell you something, is all." 

Buffy snorted. "Yeah, right. Nothing I want to hear, I'm sure. I knew I should have staked you last year when I had the chance." Without giving Spike another opportunity to plead his pathetic case, she launched an attack. 

Surprisingly, Spike fell back under her fierce blows, doing far more parrying than striking out. From her previous fights with him, Buffy knew this approach was unusual. Of course, since Spike had come out on the losing end of all their battles to date, he must have decided to adopt new tactics. He was probably trying to confuse her and throw her off her game. Well, she wasn't going to fall for one of his lame tricks. 

Buffy redoubled her efforts, finally sending Spike to the ground with a leg sweep. She swiftly pinned him down and grabbed a stray stick that was approximately the size of her usual vamp-dusting weapon. Before Spike could squirm away from her yet again, Buffy rammed the makeshift stake directly into his heart. 

_Things look bad for Spike, but keep reading...._


	8. Poststaking

  
Gifts 8/? 

Keeping Spike pinned beneath her, Buffy ground the stick into his chest and waited for him to dissolve into dust. 

He didn't. 

She frowned and looked at his torso. The stake was firmly embedded in seemingly the perfect position. Still, maybe she'd missed by a fraction of an inch. Buffy yanked the stake out, determined to try again. 

Through the tear in Spike's shirt, she watched the wound over his heart seal up. 

That wasn't supposed to happen so quickly, even taking into account the accelerated healing powers of vampires. Buffy eyed Spike suspiciously. "What have you been feeding on? Even if I missed your heart, you should still have a visible wound!" 

He didn't reply, and Buffy poised the stake over his body once more. This time, she was absolutely sure she'd strike his heart. She rammed the stick home, and once more Spike failed to turn into dust. Also once more, the hole in his chest sealed as soon as Buffy pulled the stake out. 

"What's wrong with you? Is your heart in the wrong place?" She *could* just keep jabbing him over and over in different locations until she found the right one, but Buffy had a better idea. She grabbed Spike by the collar and dragged him toward a huge patch of sunlight that streamed through a gap in the trees. 

For the first since the attempted stakings, he spoke up. "You don't want to do this, Slayer." 

"Oh, yes, I do," she grimly replied. She tugged Spike the last few feet, deposited him right under the harshest of the sun's rays, and stood back to watch the fun. 

Spike shaded his eyes with a hand. "It's brighter than I thought it would be." 

His head and hands were completely exposed, but he wasn't even smoking. "What aren't you on fire?" Buffy demanded. 

Spike lowered his hand and gracefully rose. "Wouldn't you like to know?" 

"Yes! Yes, I would!" 

"Too bad." 

Buffy felt like smashing the insolent vampire's face in, but she was pretty sure it wouldn't help her get any answers. "All right, then, what did you want to talk to me about?" 

Spike shrugged. "Maybe nothing, now. I wasn't threatening you in any way, and you attacked me and beat me up with no provocation whatsoever. All that doesn't exactly make me feel inclined to have a pleasant discussion with you." 

"You said you killed my roommate! How was I supposed to react?" 

"You could have listened to me for 10 seconds instead of going off like you did. I was trying to tell you she was a demon. You know, those nasty, evil things you like to kill?" 

Buffy stared at Spike. Could she believe even a word he was saying? A better question: Why was she even considering believing him? Spike was her enemy, for God's sake. She should know better than to cut him any slack. "How about trying the truth, instead?" 

Spike shook his head. "Oh, Slayer, how misinformed you are. You just think about what I said." He turned and strolled off down the sunlit path, calling over his shoulder, "And don't worry, you're going to be seeing a lot of me around from now on." 

Buffy was still staring dumbly at the spot where Spike had disappeared into the woods when Oz, Willow, and Xander ran up. 

Willow touched her shoulder. "Buffy? Was that Spike?" 

"Yes." She nodded. 

"Well, why didn't you stake him?" Xander asked. 

"Long, evil story. *Very* evil story. Actually, I did stake him. It didn't work." 

"How could it not work? Stake plus vampire is a deadly combination." 

Buffy pulled herself out of her daze and shrugged. "Apparently not anymore. I staked him twice, and it didn't even faze him. Neither did a sunbath." 

Oz frowned. "So, you tried the usual on Spike and he laughed it off?" 

"Exactly." Buffy looked at Willow. "Any ideas how?" 

"Sun repellent. Magic. Pure, dumb luck," Willow suggested. 

"Whatever the reason, an invulnerable Spike is not something we want to deal with," Xander noted. 

"Hey, what was he doing out here anyway?" Willow asked Buffy. "Was he trying to kill you?" 

"Strangely, no. He said he wanted to talk to me. He admitted he killed Kathy, and that's when I attacked him. He barely made a move to fight back. Then I staked him and tried the sunlight thing, and he just got up with no harm done. *Then* he fed me this ridiculous story about Kathy being a demon. Can you believe he thought I was stupid enough to fall for that?" 

The others looked away. 

"Guys?" Buffy looked at each of them in turn. "What is it?" 

Oz finally answered. "Um, Buffy, Kathy *was* a demon." 

***** 

Spike sauntered along, enjoying his view of the daytime world of Main Street. He felt good. Really, *really* good. He'd confronted the Slayer, confused the hell out of her, and walked away, none the worse for wear. Sure, it would have been even better if she'd been more receptive to his advances, but one couldn't expect too much too soon. As Shakespeare had written, the course of true love never did run smooth. Spike was confident he'd eventually wear Buffy down. 

He held out his hand and admired his new accessory: the Gem of Amara. Or, a vampire's best friend. That little ring provided invincibility to any vamp lucky enough to have it in his or her possession. Spike had no intention of letting it out of his anytime soon. His minions had found it just that afternoon, buried in a treasure trove beneath the streets of Sunnydale. Spike had hardly been able to believe his luck. The Gem was legendary in vampiric circles. It hadn't been seen in so many centuries, some didn't even think it had ever existed. But, having heard the stories and put together the clues, Spike had narrowed down its location to one of several areas on the Hellmouth. *He* had been the only vampire with intelligence and vision enough to find the Gem, and it was everything he'd heard it was. 

He was going to have to secure it better, of course. The Slayer was bound to figure out why he hadn't been dusted or cooked, and then all she'd have to do was yank the ring off his hand and he'd be back to being normal old Spike, killable by any of a number of simple methods. He'd definitely work on that issue very soon. Right now, though, he had another decision to make. Spike stopped in front of a sunglasses stall and considered: Ray Bans or Gucci? 

  
  
_  
Note on the spelling of Gem of Amara: In the "Buffy" episode "The Harsh Light of Day," closed captioning and transcripts say "Amara." In the "Angel" episode "In the Dark," the "Amarra" spelling is used. Since the shows couldn't get it straight, I just picked one and went with the spelling used on "Buffy." _


	9. Surprise

Gifts 9/? 

Buffy, Willow, Oz, and Xander decided that pursuing Spike would do no good, so they returned to Giles' place, where they filled him in on the latest happenings. 

"So, what exactly is Spike up to?" Xander asked. "I mean, I don't get why he's around at all." 

Buffy shot him a disbelieving look. "You're serious? You really haven't figured it out yet? Okay, let's summarize. He's been sending me bizarre anonymous gifts." 

"And while you four were out, I identified the ring," Giles chimed in. "It was enchanted with a protection spell. Spike undoubtedly knew this at the time he gave it to Buffy." 

"He killed Kathy to protect her," contributed Oz. 

"He didn't fight back when Buffy attacked him," Willow added. 

"Don't rub it in," Buffy protested. "It's bad enough that he's here in the first place, but for *that* reason? I have just one question: Why me?" 

"What?" Xander looked from one face to the other. His friends' expressions ranged from repulsed (Buffy) to stoic (Oz). "Okay, I'm officially an idiot. What are you all getting at? What am I missing?" 

Willow prompted, "Spike...sending Buffy presents...killing people--or demons--for her...coming back to town to see her..." 

"Oh," Xander said. Then he repeated, "*Oh*," in a very different tone. "You mean Spike is the secret admirer we've been wondering about. Ew. Ew. And a thousand more times, ew." 

"That about sums it up," Buffy agreed. "Right now, though, what I most want to know is why he isn't dead. I staked him and tried to fry him. Either/or has been 100 percent effective in the past. I don't like the thought of Super Vamp running around, oblivious to my Slayerhood. Giles?" 

He rubbed his jaw. "I suppose magic seems the most likely answer, except that if such is the case, one would expect more vampires to have utilized it. It must be a rare spell indeed, if so. Perhaps it was a brief enchantment and Spike can never use it again." 

"We can hope, can't we?" 

***** 

Five days later... 

As soon as Giles responded to the pounding at his front door by opening it, Buffy brushed past him and stalked into the living room. "We have to do something about Spike! Now!" she demanded. 

Giles readjusted his glasses and watched as Buffy paced in clipped strides. "We are all aware of the Spike problem. Have there been any new developments?" 

Buffy stopped and narrowed her eyes. "Yes! I saw him strolling around campus, wearing sunglasses! Sunglasses! That is so wrong, I can't even begin to express my feelings about it." 

"Well, did he do anything to you?" 

Buffy dropped down onto the couch and sighed. "No, not exactly. He just...winked and walked away when he saw me." 

Giles settled down with a cup of coffee and observed, "That's good, at least. He's been very quiet since his return." 

"It's true, local deaths have gone down," Buffy grudgingly admitted. "But I don't like it. He's been *too* quiet, so he must be planning something huge that will ruin my life." 

"That, of course, remains to be seen. In the meantime, I may have narrowed down the source of his invincibility. An ancient relic called the Gem of Amara grants the powers you witnessed. It hasn't been seen for centuries, however, so I'm skeptical that it's the answer. Still, did you happen to notice if Spike was wearing a ring or any other jewelry when you fought him, or today on campus?" 

"No, I wasn't exactly looking at his hand." Buffy blushed. "Not that I was looking anywhere else, either. Oh, you know what I mean!" 

"Yes, quite. Well, I'll continue my research and you keep your eyes open." 

***** 

For several more days, life was peaceful, meaning that Buffy saw no signs of Spike. Activities on campus had returned to normal. When Kathy's body had reverted to demon form, the magic of the Hellmouth came into play and the murder investigation had been forgotten. Instead, word spread that the entire situation had been a huge mistake and Kathy was no longer around because she had dropped out of school. Buffy had then moved into Willow's dorm room and felt a little better about the whole mess. At least Spike didn't have an invitation into her new residence. 

Partially because of the recent problems, she was still struggling in most of her courses. Buffy headed into composition class knowing she'd probably done poorly on the most recent assignment, which she had thrown together at practically the last minute. She settled down at her usual desk and pulled the wrinkled paper out of her folder. 

As she attempted to smooth the sheet, someone moved close to her and cleared his throat. Buffy looked up, her irritation changing to pleasure when she recognized Parker Abrams, the guy she had met in the cafeteria a couple of weeks ago. 

"Hey, Buffy," he greeted her. "I don't know if you remember me." 

"Um, Parker, right?" She deliberately hesitated, not wanting to appear overly anxious. 

"Right. Well, ever since I ran into you, I've been hoping to see you again but we don't have any of the same classes. Anyway, I noticed you coming in here just now and since I've been wanting to talk to you, it seemed like a good time. I'll just get right to the point. I was wondering if you'd like to go out on a date with me sometime." 

A date? With a normal guy? Buffy was stunned. "Sure, that sounds..." Phenomenal? Unbelievable? Perfect? "...Nice." 

"Great." Parker flashed a blinding white smile. "Say, Friday night, to a club or something? Maybe a place you know, since it's our first date." 

"Have you ever been to the Bronze?" Buffy asked. 

"Once or twice. Sounds good. So, I'll pick you up at your dorm room at 7?" 

"Yeah, all right." Buffy scrawled her address on a scrap of paper and handed it to Parker, then watched in a daze as he retreated. Her first date in months, with a guy who seemed ordinary. She finally had something good going on in her life. Now, if only her composition would magically repair itself. She was about to return to her disaster of an assignment when her attention was caught by the sight of an unpleasantly familiar blonde head next to Dr. Petrovski. No two individuals could have hair precisely that color, could they? 

The milling students impeding her view sat down, and to her dismay Buffy realized the newcomer *was* Spike. Could she have no peace from him? She watched the instructor accept a paper from Spike and strained her ears to make out their conversation amid the other chatter in the room. "William Stafford," Dr. Petrovski read. "You'll be auditing? Wonderful. We're glad to have you. Just take any empty seat." 

With a feeling of foreboding, Buffy glanced at the desk next to hers. It was just one of several empty seats scattered throughout the room, but she was already sure Spike would choose it. 

Sure enough, he made a beeline for the spot and leaned close to her. "'Lo, Slayer. Told you you'd be seeing me around, didn't I?" 

_Wow, no new reviews in more than a month. Does that mean no one is reading? Should I just post at my website and mailing lists from now on, and not bother with FF.net?_


	10. The Bronze

_That long gap in reviews did make me wonder, but according to the most recent comments a lot of people actually are reading this story on this particular site. So I'll keep posting it here. I'm going to add Ch. 10-12 now to get caught up with what I've finished so far._

Gifts 10/? 

Promptly at 6:30 on Friday night, Spike arrived outside the Bronze. He estimated that the Slayer and her nitwit date would appear in a little over half an hour, judging by the conversation he had overheard in the college classroom the other day. Just in case their plans had changed and they showed up earlier, though, he was ready and waiting. Besides, a pack of his fledglings was due to turn up as well, and he wanted to make sure they knew what they were to do. 

Buffy was coming with someone named Parker Abrams. Spike sneered. What an idiotic name. Obviously, she was rebelling against him by choosing to go out with someone else. Well, he'd let her play hard to get for a little while, he supposed, but no way would he allow her to run around without him there to monitor the situation. 

As he watched the sun droop toward the horizon, Spike touched his chest over the incision he'd had made so the Gem of Amara could be planted inside his body. He now stood virtually no chance of losing it, although to be fair, no one knew he had it. Even the minions that had located the Gem had no idea of its significance. All they knew was that they had dug up a treasure trove of jewelry and weapons, and for once Spike hadn't been pissed at them. The reason why he was safely able to go out during the daytime remained a mystery to them. It had also, in mere days, enhanced Spike's reputation to near legendary proportions. 

He continued to hover outside the building, impatiently waiting for his fledglings to appear with the arrival of sunset. He still had plenty of time to waste before Buffy showed up, so Spike decided to grab a snack to tide himself over. He casually looked around and waited out the first few groups of people who wandered past. He wanted someone who was alone. The Bronze was a pretty busy place on weekends, but most people had the sense to travel in packs. Still, it only took one who didn't. After just a few minutes, Spike found that one: a young man wearing an apron and a nametag. 

"Hey, mate." Spike waved him over. 

The man hesitated and then crossed the street to stand before him. "Yeah, what is it? I'm going to be late for my bartending shift." 

"You got the time?" 

When the bartender pulled back his sleeve to check, Spike pounced. He grabbed the guy and tugged him into the shadows, then sank his fangs into the man's neck. The thick, delicious taste of blood streamed into his mouth, and Spike had to remind himself to drink just enough to take the edge off his hunger. After all, he didn't want to leave a pile of bodies in his wake and ruin any chance he had with the Slayer. Not when he was finally making real progress with her. 

Restraining himself, Spike withdrew and allowed his victim to crumple to the ground. The stunned bartender opened his eyes and stared up at Spike. "What just happened?" 

"You passed out. Need a hand?" Without waiting for an answer, Spike hauled the confused man to his feet. "Off you go, now." 

"Yeah, thanks." The bartender wobbled toward the Bronze, looking uncertain but determined to get to work. 

Satisfied that he had covered up well enough, Spike turned his attention back to thoughts of Buffy. Given his new sunproof status, enrolling in her college courses had struck him as an excellent idea. Until the minion who had hacked into her computer records reported that all but one of her classes were full. Spike had immediately signed up to audit that single course, reasoning that it was better than nothing. Buffy had to get used to seeing him as a regular part of her life. As soon she'd realize how well he fit in to her everyday existence, she'd have to reason to reject him. 

Finally, the sun sank low enough so that the idiot fledglings could make their way out of the lair to meet him. Spike quickly repeated the instructions he had given them earlier, confirming that the young vampires couldn't possibly forget the importance of their assignments. Then he slipped inside the Bronze and selected a corner table in the darkest section of the room. 

At a few minutes after 7, his patience was rewarded. Spike watched from his secluded spot as Buffy and her date weaved their way through the crowd and collected drinks from the bar, then chose a small table near the dance floor. They began to chat animatedly, not seeming to lack for topics of conversation. Buffy looked like she was having a good time--way too good. She was laughing at some comment the idiot boy had made. Spike was close enough to get a good view of their actions, but he couldn't make out their conversation and he didn't dare move. As long as he stayed a fair distance away, odds were good that the Slayer wouldn't sense he was in the building. The minute he crept close enough to hear them, though, she was sure to notice him and accuse him of spying on her. Which he was, but he figured he had a right. She was more or less cheating on him, and he thought his reaction was pretty restrained. It didn't mean he had to enjoy watching her out with someone else, of course. 

Spike growled as Buffy laughed for the third time. He nervously checked his watch, hoping the stupid fledglings could successfully complete at least this one task. It was almost time... 

He looked at the doorway. Sure enough, a fledgling appeared there. Spike established eye contact and nodded. The vampire obediently crossed the room, chose a victim from the dance floor, and lured him outside, all within mere moments. 

A minute after the first fledgling left, another entered the Bronze and repeated the process. By the time the third vampire had come and gone, Buffy started to catch on to the pattern. Spike looked on as she stopped listening to Parker, who had to touch her arm to get her attention. Spike could see her make an excuse to her companion, then cut across the floor toward the exit. He relaxed in relief. It had been only too easy to disrupt the date. Buffy couldn't resist a call for help, and Spike had arranged for a steady stream of them tonight. So he'd lose at least a handful of fledglings in the process. So what? They were disposable anyway, and the results would be well worth the small inconvenience. 

While he waited for Buffy to return from wasting the first three puny fledglings, Spike idly watched Parker go to the bar to collect drink refills. He brought the glasses back to the table, then slowly glanced around the room. Spike turned away, avoiding eye contact just to be safe. When he looked back at the other table, Parker was reaching into his pocket. Spike narrowed his eyes, observing as the boy pulled a small item out and held it hidden in his fist. 

Before he could make another move, Buffy came trotting back into the room and slid into her seat. Parker shifted his hand back to the pocket, depositing the object inside, before he presented Buffy with her unharmed drink. Clueless, she smiled and accepted it. 

Spike settled back into his corner, boiling with rage. If he was correct, Parker had just attempted to drug Buffy's drink. Worst of all, Spike could do little about it at the moment. If he approached Buffy, she would rightfully accuse him of following her and probably not believe a word he said anyway. He decided instead to continue to watch and wait, then confirm his suspicions and take care of Parker as soon as the date was over. He would have plenty of opportunities to make sure nothing untoward happened; with the interruptions he had planned, Buffy wouldn't have five consecutive minutes of peace for the duration of her date. 

  
  



	11. New Student

Gifts 11/? 

On Saturday morning, Buffy was too depressed to drag herself out of bed early. She didn't bother to show substantial signs of life until Willow woke up at well past 10, looking and sounding unbearably perky. 

"Buffy, you were out awfully late last night. Does that mean your date with Parker went well?" 

"Not exactly." Buffy propped herself against the wall and elaborated. "Let me put it this way: 'Disaster' is not a strong enough description." 

"What happened?" Willow asked. 

"Well, things started out okay. He picked me up and we went to the Bronze. So far, so good. Parker bought us drinks and we were talking and getting to know each other and I liked him a lot. Then I noticed these vampires luring people outside, so I had to make up an excuse to leave so I could dust them. I followed them out, took care of them, went back in. A few minutes later, more vampires came in, and I had to leave again. When I went back to the table that time, Parker acted really nice about things and he asked me to dance. So we started to, but two more vampires showed up. I had to make up some lame excuse about why I couldn't finish the date and I ran out again. I didn't see Parker around after that. He probably couldn't leave fast enough. I bet if he ever sees me on campus, he'll turn and walk the other way." 

"No, he won't. I bet he'd love to go out with you some other time." 

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Willow, there's a difference between trying to make someone feel better, and laying it on way too thick. You've definitely crossed that line. Nice try, though. I was back late because I was so busy hunting down all of those stupid, annoying vampires and then patrolling to wipe out more of them. It's all Spike's fault, you know," Buffy declared. 

Willow cocked her head. "Huh? Not following you, here." 

"I bet he created most of those vampires who were at the Bronze, plus the ones in the cemeteries. We all know he's positioning himself as master of Sunnydale. And even if he wasn't responsible for that, he's still a pain. I don't even want to go to composition class because I know he'll be there. All right, to be honest, I never want to go to comp anyway, but Spike's presence is another major reason to avoid it." 

"Maybe he'll get bored and go away," Willow suggested. 

Buffy shook her head. "With my luck? Never." The phone rang, and Buffy picked up the receiver. "Hello?" She sat bolt upright and exclaimed, "Parker! No, this isn't a bad time. ... Tuesday? Um, yeah, sounds good." She fumbled for a pen and scribbled a message in her notebook. "Right. ... See you there." Buffy hung up and sat in a reverie for a moment until she remembered that Willow was waiting for her report. "That was Parker. He wants to go with me to a party on Tuesday night. I guess I didn't scare him away after all." 

"That's great!" Willow began, then hesitated. "Did you say Tuesday? That's the night before the big psychology test. Are you sure you should go out then instead of studying?" 

Buffy laughed. "Oh, come on, Will, live it up a little. This is college." 

"Exactly. You have to take it seriously. Your grades are slipping, especially in psych." 

"I'll be fine." And Buffy ignored the worried expression on her friend's face as she began to daydream about her upcoming date. 

***** 

Spike was all set for school on Monday morning. He had a new approach in mind. He would attempt to make conversation with Buffy every time they were in comp class together. The course met three times a week, which should provide him with ample opportunity. Gradually, Buffy would come to accept that he was there to stay, and she would open up to him. He was sure of it. 

He was also pleased that he had successfully sabotaged her big date on Friday. He had maintained close watch over Buffy and Parker that night, but the Slayer had surprised even him by how short she had cut the evening. Before Spike had a chance to react, Buffy had called off the whole thing and sent her companion on his way. Knowing she was unharmed and seriously doubting she would ever go out with Parker Abrams again, Spike hadn't bothered to track and kill the young man. Now he wasn't sure that he even should. He really couldn't go around killing everyone Buffy associated with, no matter how great the temptation. After all, he wanted her to like him. No, he would just continue to whittle away at her defenses in his own special way. 

Spike arrived in the composition classroom and chose the desk he'd taken the two previous times. Although seats weren't assigned, most of the students had established a pattern and selected the same spots every class. Buffy had the desk right next to Spike's. In their two classes so far, she hadn't resisted or attempted to move to another place, which had to be a good sign. 

Class was due to begin in 15 minutes, which seemed like plenty of time to get a good conversation going. Unfortunately, Buffy wasn't anywhere to be seen. Spike alternated between staring at the clock and checking the doorway. Finally, with barely five minutes to spare, Buffy entered the room. 

"Good morning," Spike greeted her cheerfully. "How are you today, Buffy?" 

She threw herself down at her desk and glared at him. "Look, Spike, let's keep this simple. I leave you alone, you leave me alone. All right?" 

"But I don't want to leave you alone," Spike said reasonably. "I came back to Sunnydale because of you. I even enrolled in this class for you. I love you." 

Their eavesdropping classmates burst into applause. 

"Thanks, everyone," Buffy said sarcastically. "You know nothing about this creature, yet you encourage him to pester me. Please stop." 

The other students looked at Spike with sympathetic expressions. "Bitch," muttered one. 

Undaunted, Spike tried again to reason with the Slayer. "I've done nothing but be nice to you since I've come back. I've defended you, I've given you presents--speaking of which, what happened to the ring I sent you?" He double-checked her bare hands. "Why aren't you wearing it?" 

"That little trinket?" Buffy shrugged. "I don't know, I guess Giles did something or other with it." 

"Oi! I brought that ring all the while from Brazil, and not for the Watcher, either!" 

"He has the dagger, too," Buffy added with a falsely sweet smile. 

Spike glowered beside her. Making progress was going to be a hell of a lot more difficult than he had anticipated. "If you aren't going to use them, give them back," he demanded. 

"What? No!" Buffy protested loudly. 

From the front of the classroom, Dr. Petrovski cleared his throat. "Buffy, William, excuse me. You two can continue your discussion after class. Buffy, may I speak to you for a moment?" 

Buffy shot Spike a nasty look before she made her way over to the instructor. Seizing a golden opportunity, Spike reached over and grabbed Buffy's folder and notebook from her desk. Fortunately, the other students didn't even seem to notice his action. 

Satisfied that he would get away with it, Spike flipped the folder open. It held a sheaf of Buffy's graded assignments and tests. The sociology section was marked with grades ranging from A to C. Composition was more spotty, but not too bad. Then Spike moved on to the psychology area, which was worse than he would have guessed. The instructor had written varying negative grades across the tops of nearly every paper: a large red "F," "See me, "incomplete," "unsatisfactory." It looked like Buffy was really struggling in that course, and Spike remembered how the Slayer had been complaining of that fact back when he'd first returned to town. Matters apparently hadn't improved since. 

Thoughtfully, Spike replaced the papers and moved on to the notebook. It contained less interesting material: mostly class notes, unfinished assignments, and indecipherable doodles. Spike was about to shut the book when he noticed a calendar in the front area. He looked over that week's entries. Written in the space for the very next day, Tuesday, was, "8:00, Parker, party at 1830 Chesterfield." 

With an effort, Spike stopped himself from changing into game face in the middle of the classroom. He'd thought he'd taken care of the Parker problem. Evidently, he'd been wrong. He threw Buffy's things back onto her desk as he pondered how to fix his mistake. 

  
_Next time: Buffy goes to the party with Parker; Spike tags along, and trouble ensues. _


	12. The Party

Gifts 12/? 

After much thought, Spike had decided to intercept Buffy and Parker at the party on Tuesday night. He could kill Parker first, of course, and solve one big problem that way, but then the idiot would probably become some sort of martyr in Buffy's eyes. He couldn't allow that. Instead, he would meet them there, warn Buffy, let her catch Parker in the act, and watch the fun. 

On his way to the party, though, Spike considered the potential deeper roots of the trouble: the chance that Buffy might actually *like* Parker. What could she see in him? Okay, she probably appreciated the fact that he was human--which was a drawback, in Spike's eyes. Humans were weak and mortal. They couldn't keep up with a Slayer. She needed someone who could be her equal, and not a pansy like Angel, either. 

And sure, Parker had a soul. But in Spike's opinion, souls were highly overrated. After all, he'd gotten along just fine without one for more than a century. Look at what had happened to Angel when his had been returned to him. By all accounts, he'd been good for nothing for about a hundred years after that. 

No, Spike was clearly the superior choice. He'd convince the Slayer of it soon enough. He sped up until he reached the outskirts of town, where Chesterfield Street lay. There, he spotted lines of cars parked on both sides of the road. If he picked a spot in the middle, he'd probably find the party house with no trouble. Spike waited for a black Jaguar to pull out of its place, then squeezed the DeSoto into the opening. As he stepped out of the car, a wave of music assaulted his ears. Sure enough, 1830 Chesterfield, a large, white house set well back from the road, was just about where he had predicted. The homes on either side were situated several hundred yards away, which was a good thing since the noise would have driven out anyone closer. From the looks of things, the party had been in full swing for some time. Maybe he should have shown up even earlier. With that thought in mind, Spike hurried to push his way in the front door. 

"Hey, wait. Who are you?" demanded the burly kid who was manning the entrance. 

"It's okay," interjected another boy. "I know him. We have a class together." 

Spike vaguely recognized the kid, but didn't remember his name. Frankly, in his eyes one human was pretty much the same as another. They fell into two main categories: potential food, and not-food. At the moment, Buffy and her gang were the only members of the latter category. This particular human was potential food, hence nameless. Still, he *had* just been of assistance and maybe he could be of more. 

Spike nodded at him. "Thanks, mate." 

"No problem, William. Rockin' party, huh?" 

"Yeah, sure. Have you seen Buffy around?" 

"Who?" the boy said around a mouthful of pretzels. 

"Buf-fy," Spike enunciated clearly. "She's in composition class with us." 

"Oh, the blonde who shot you down? Yeah, she's here somewhere." 

Immediately losing interest in the kid, Spike pushed past him and cast about for a glimpse or a scent of the Slayer in the crowded, noisy room. This time, he didn't care if she saw him. Hiding hadn't worked. Being nice hadn't worked. He had moved on to the "in your face" approach. If that one failed, he wasn't quite sure what he'd try next. 

He scanned room after room of nobodies, stepping around and over the numerous students who were already drunk on bad American beer. Finally, in the fifth room, Spike caught a glimpse of Buffy and her much less appealing companion. They were halfway across the cavernous room, dancing to the beat of a rap song that didn't even deserve the label of "music." As Spike started toward them, the music died down and Parker led Buffy into the sea of people. Spike waded into the middle of the pack, tossing humans right and left. Ignoring the complaints of "Watch it!" and "Excuse you!" that followed him, he cleared a path until he came upon Buffy, standing apart from the crowd in a relatively peaceful corner. Fortunately, Parker was nowhere to be seen. 

Spike took a moment to admire Buffy's choice of a form-fitting, midnight-blue, and, of course, very short dress before he joined her. "Good thing I tracked you down, Slayer." 

Her expression instantly soured. "What are *you* doing here?" 

"I'll get straight to the point. I'm here to help you." 

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. In what alternate dimension?" 

"Did once before," Spike reminded her. "Angel. Acathla. Proved you could trust my word then. Look, it's about this Parker you came here with. He's dangerous, luv, I know it." 

"So says the vampire who's more than once tried to wipe out every trace of me and mine. You'll forgive me if I ignore, oh, just about every single word that comes out of your mouth." 

"No. No, I won't. I'm serious. Parker Abrams is bad news." Spike looked at Buffy's disbelieving face and recklessly threw a major card on the table. "He tried to drug your drink at the Bronze the other night." 

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "And you know that how?" 

"I was there. I saw him." 

"I knew it! I *told* Willow you were responsible for that entire disaster, and now you admit it." 

Spike shook his head. "The only thing about that night that could have hurt you was the drug. I was just there to observe and make sure things didn't go too far." 

"I'd sooner eat glass than listen to you," Buffy snapped. 

"Anything wrong?" came Parker's unwelcome voice as he wedged himself into their hideout. 

"No, everything's just fine." Buffy turned as far toward him and away from Spike as space would allow. 

"Here you go." Parker handed her an opened beer can. "All ready for you." 

"I don't drink," Buffy began, then looked at Spike. "On the other hand, just this one time...." She tilted her head back and defiantly swigged down at least half the can in one steady motion. 

Spike clenched his jaw until it ached. If that was the way the Slayer felt, let her drink herself into a stupor. See if he cared. He turned and elbowed his way out of the house, not even taking pleasure in the cries of pain and annoyance that followed in his wake. He wasted no time hopping in the DeSoto and turning the car's nose toward home. Buffy had made matters clear: She didn't trust him and she wouldn't believe him. If he said the grass was green, she'd go outside with a magnifying glass hunting for brown blades. Her sheer stubbornness was part of what he loved about her, but he did wish she'd cut him a break sometime. 

Like tonight. 

His anger fading, Spike reconsidered his options. If he left Buffy alone, she might learn a hard lesson and be more likely to respect his opinion in the future. On the other hand, she could end up in real trouble and never forgive Spike for not trying harder to warn her. 

He was probably damned if he did and damned if he didn't, but Spike didn't really have a decision to make. He pulled a U-turn and gunned his way back to the address he'd been so eager to leave not long ago. Doubleparking his precious car, he leaped out and stalked back into the house. 

Inside, strangely enough, the front of the house was nearly deserted. Spike made his way to the room where he'd left Buffy and Parker, only to find that pandemonium reigned there. He had to squeeze his way around a clump of people who were blocking the entrance. Curious, he noted that they were circling an individual who was sprawled on the floor. 

"Call an ambulance," suggested one. "And the police, too." 

"No, then the party'll break up," someone else protested. 

"He's really hurt," chimed in a third. 

Spike caught a glimpse of Parker's face in the center of the confusion and paused to listen more carefully. When he managed to make out a status report, Spike grinned. The words "broken jaw" and "Parker" sounded awfully good in the same sentence, and he knew just the person who was responsible for that turn of events. 

He moved on with his hunt and was soon rewarded. At the foot of the stairs leading up to the second floor he found Buffy, wobbly and clutching the banister for support. Damn, he knew he shouldn't have left her to drink that beer. Who knew what that idiot boy had put in it? 

Spike edged as close as he dared, not sure how Buffy would reach to his presence while on drugs. "Hey, Slayer, not looking too good," he ventured. 

She swiveled her head toward him but didn't answer. 

"Guess you got yourself into some trouble. Your friends are talking about calling the police. We'd best get you of here before that, right?" 

Buffy swayed toward him and agreed, "All right," grabbing his arm. 

Spike automatically moved to steady her, even as he asked, "You do know who I am, right?" 

"Shpike," Buffy slurred. 

Good enough. "Why don't you let me take you home?" Buffy made no protest, and Spike silently added, '*My* home, not yours,' as he guided the limp, pliable Slayer into the night air.   
  
  
_end Ch. 12_


	13. Home

Gifts 13/? 

By the time Spike drove back to his lair, Buffy had passed out in the seat beside him. He gently shook her. "C'mon, Slayer, wake up." She didn't move, and Spike began to grow concerned. He wasn't sure what kind of drugs she'd been given, how much she'd taken, really anything. He checked her breathing. It seemed good, slow but not too slow and very steady. Those were positive signs. Spike was used to his victims having rapid heartbeats, but he'd spent enough time stalking humans to know how they behaved in repose. Buffy seemed normal enough, as far as he could make out. Anyway, she was the Slayer. She should be able to shake off any problems with relative ease. 

Having reassured himself, Spike carefully picked Buffy up and carried her up to the abandoned warehouse. The vampire sentry opened the door for him and then returned to his post, all without Spike saying a word. He'd been working on training his servants, and only the smart ones had survived. 

Inside, the few vampires that weren't out hunting stared as Spike carried the human past them. It was the first time he had brought a live person into the base. Ignoring their obvious curiosity, Spike mounted the stairs and proceeded down the hall to his room. He nudged open the door, then deposited Buffy on the silk sheets of the bed. After assuring himself that she wasn't likely to stir anytime soon, Spike went back downstairs. 

"You." He indicated the nearest minion. "Angie. Go tell everyone except the sentries to get out of here and not come back till tomorrow night." 

She stared at him. "Master, where are we supposed to go during the day?" 

"I'm sure you'll figure something out. Hurry up. I want this place cleared out within five minutes." While the minion scurried off to relay his orders, Spike went and instructed each of the sentries to allow no one inside for the remainder of the night. The guards would be allowed to leave a half hour before sunrise to seek shelter elsewhere. 

Satisfied that his instructions would be followed, Spike returned to his room and surveyed his surroundings. The place *was* a little dark and ancient-looking, and definitely not good enough for Buffy. Maybe he should have taken her to a nice hotel instead?... No, she would have to accept him as he was. Spike wasn't ashamed of his home base. He did plan to upgrade eventually, but so far he'd been too busy with other pursuits. The Slayer would just have to understand how things were. 

Having decided to stay put, Spike set about making Buffy more comfortable. All those clothes--surely she wouldn't miss some of them? Even most of them? Of course not. Spike helpfully stripped Buffy down to her underwear, but he didn't take advantage of the situation even by looking...too much. Instead, he covered Buffy with a blanket to make sure she wouldn't get too cold. 

Spike couldn't help feeling a little sorry for himself. He finally had the Slayer where he wanted her, but he couldn't do anything fun with her because she was passed out. He was evil, but he wasn't that evil. On the other hand, he reminded himself, she would be sure to warm up to him when she woke up and saw what good care he'd taken of her. He was in a can't-lose situation. 

Finished with his tasks, Spike stood and stared at the sleeping girl. He wondered if he could put down his feelings for her on paper. He hadn't felt the urge to write poetry in quite some time, but now he had inspiration. Yeah, he'd give it a try. He pulled up a chair next to the bed and settled down with pen and paper. Over the next few hours, he started and scrapped numerous efforts. None of them seemed to express the magnitude of his feelings toward the Slayer. But Spike persevered, and eventually came up with a piece that seemed worthy. He then painstakingly copied the final version onto a fresh sheet of paper and set it aside on the mahogany desk in the corner. 

It was very late, and he needed to get some sleep. Spike gently shifted Buffy toward the right side of the bed and slid into the space next to her. 

***** 

Dawn came and passed with no interruptions. So did mid-morning, and noon. At about half past 1, Spike finally stirred and awakened. He felt the unmoving warmth next to him and immediately knew Buffy was still there. 

Quietly, Spike crept out of bed and moved around, getting ready for the day and straightening up. Buffy didn't so much as stir. Figuring he had some time yet, Spike went downstairs to have lunch. After he'd taken his fill of stored blood, he considered what to do about Buffy's meal. The kitchen did contain small amounts of human food, since some of the vampires enjoyed it. Although not sure what Buffy liked or when she would wake up, Spike decided to prepare her a tray. He loaded it with an assortment of fruits, cheeses, and candies and toted the food upstairs. 

As he reentered the bedroom, the tray loudly scraped against the door. Spike froze and watched helplessly as Buffy began to move about. Well, it was probably about time she woke up anyway. He deposited the tray on the desk, making sure to avoid his poem, and crossed over to the bed so he could reassure Buffy the second she realized she was waking up in a strange place. 

Her eyelids fluttered and then opened fully. Seeing that she appeared aware of her surroundings, Spike greeted her. "Good afternoon, Buffy. I hope you're not feeling too badly after last night." 

Buffy clutched a hand to her head and pushed herself up a few inches. "Wh..." She stopped to clear her throat, then tried speaking again with more success. "Where are we?" 

"My...lair. Home. Temporary home," Spike corrected. "I'm in the market for a new place." 

"*Why* are we here?" 

Her voice sounded awful, like nails rasping over metal. "Do you want something to eat?" Spike motioned to the tray. "Or let me bring you a drink. Not blood, of course. I can get a glass of water from downstairs." 

Buffy scrunched up her face. "Ew, no. I'd rather have nothing at all. Now tell me what's going on." 

"Oh, yeah," Spike said, trying hard to keep from feeling offended. "You remember that little incident last night? Party? Parker? Yes, no?" 

"Vaguely." 

"You were in no shape to take care of yourself afterwards, so I lent a hand. No need to thank me. Well, unless you want to." Spike trailed off, at a loss as to what to say next. The conversation was hardly proceeding as he had imagined. Then a thought struck him. "Here, I have a little present for you." Spike hurried over to the desk to retrieve his masterpiece. "I wrote this poem while you were sleeping." 

"Like I care?" Buffy shoved aside the covers, then realized she was nearly naked and yanked the blanket up to her chin. "I knew you were the type to molest me in my sleep!" 

"Hey, I didn't lay a hand on you!" Spike paused to calm himself down. It wouldn't do to get into an argument with the Slayer and ruin things. He continued in a quieter tone. "Well, I *did* undress you, but that was completely innocent. Thought it would make you more comfortable." 

"You took off almost all my clothes. I'm surprised you even left my watch." Buffy took a moment to glance at the watch, and promptly screamed, "Spike! Look at what time it is!" 

He shrugged. "Maybe 'bout two thirty? Don't really care." 

"Why the hell didn't you take me home instead of bringing me here?" 

"I wanted to prove you could trust me." 

"Yeah, trust you to make me miss three classes, including my psychology exam. Professor Walsh doesn't allow makeups for any reason. I'm going to get an F for the semester, and it's all your fault!" 

Stung by Buffy's unrelentingly unreasonable attitude, Spike lost his tenuous grasp on his temper. "I made you miss class? I'm not the dozy bint who was thick enough to ignore me and take a drugged drink that caused her to pass out and sleep most of the next day away." Buffy opened her mouth, but Spike was on a roll. "As for trust, what have I done that's harmed you? Not a thing. In fact, I've been helping you all along. I warned you about your 'boyfriend' Parker, for one. By the way, you might try looking for him in hospital, where you apparently put him. I also took care of your demon roommate, and I dusted Sunday and her gang. Yeah, that's right. When you went hunting for them in their lair did you happen to notice the numerous little piles of dust scattered about the floor?" Buffy looked blank. "I thought not. Next time, try opening your eyes. Maybe then you'll figure out who you can really trust!" 

Buffy turned an interesting shade of red. "I don't have to stay here and listen to this from a *vampire*!" She threw back the blanket and got to her feet with a wobbly effort. Still holding onto his righteous anger, Spike made no move to help her. He just watched as Buffy collected her clothes from the wooden chair he'd placed them on and got dressed. Finished, she stalked to the door and turned for a parting shot. "I don't want to see you around again, anywhere. If I do, I'll figure out a way to stake you, once and for all!" 

"Fine, you do that," Spike retorted. He didn't move a muscle as Buffy left, slamming the door so that it rattled on its hinges. Only after she'd stormed from the building did he lower himself onto the bed and shake his head in confusion. "What'd I do wrong?" he said to the empty room. 


	14. Cold, Creepy Vampire Fingers

_Last time: Spike took Buffy back to his lair. When she woke up, though, she was angry at him and they had an argument before Buffy left. _

Buffy dragged herself back to campus, getting odd looks from other students as she proceeded. She ducked her head and walked faster, not in the mood to deal with anyone at the moment, except Willow. She went straight to the dorm room and found the door ajar. Willow was sitting cross-legged on her bed, the phone plastered to her ear. 

"Last night. ... Yeah, she's--" Willow's end of the conversation ended abruptly when she looked up and saw her roommate standing in the doorway. "She's back! I have to go!" She shoved the phone aside and ran over to grab Buffy in a tight hug. "You weren't in class today and you missed the big test. Then I heard this rumor that you hit Parker and he's in the hospital. I was really worried. Where have you been?" 

Buffy withdrew from Willow's stranglehold and sighed. "Long story. Long, disgusting story." She then recapped the events dating from the previous night, ending with, "I can't believe Spike had the nerve to bring me to his dingy old lair. And he even *swore* at me. At least, I think he did, only he used British instead of regular English." 

Willow, who had grown quieter and quieter throughout Buffy's recital, finally spoke. "What did he say?" 

"'Dozy bint,' I think." Buffy crossed to the closet and began to root through it for fresh clothes. "What do you suppose that means?" 

"You could ask Giles for a better translation, but my guess is something like 'stupid bitch.'" 

"See?" Buffy shook her head. "I'm surprised he didn't drain me while I was there, only he must have still been playing his sick game. All I can think about is those cold, creepy vampire fingers crawling all over me while I was asleep." 

"Room temperature," Willow stated in a flat voice. 

"What?" 

"I said Spike's fingers must have actually been room temperature instead of cold. You were indoors, in California, in the fall." 

Buffy replaced the hanger she had selected and turned around. "The vibes of sympathy coming from you are overwhelming, Willow. Why are you acting like this?" 

"I don't know, Buffy. It just seems to me that Spike didn't do much of anything wrong, but you sure did. You went to a party with a guy you barely know, on a school night, right before a big test in a class you're close to failing. You're underage, but you drank beer at that same party full of other underage people who were also drinking. Even worse, the beer you drank was handed to you, already opened, by this same guy you barely knew and you were warned about him ahead of time. What were you *thinking*? No, wait, let me answer for you. The lights were on, but no one was home. In fact, if Spike hadn't been around, who knows what would have happened to you." 

"Why are you defending him?" 

"I'm *not*. I'm just being honest. For whatever reason, Spike tried to help you, and you acted like an airhead." 

Try as she might, Buffy could come up with no counter-argument. "All right, point taken. It was not one of my finer nights. But it's over now, and I promise I'll try to never do anything that stupid again. It's just that it was *Spike.* How was I supposed to know it was the one time I could trust him?" 

"Yeah." Willow nodded. "But it looks like Parker is a bigger problem right now. We have to concentrate on taking care of him. So what exactly do you remember him doing after you had the beer?" 

Buffy considered. "My memory's kinda fuzzy, but he was definitely groping me and he wouldn't stop. So I punched him." 

"I guess he didn't account for Slayer strength when he gave you your dose." 

"We don't actually *know* that he drugged me," Buffy pointed out. 

"Exactly, which is why we're going to the hospital to get you tested, so we have proof." 

At Willow's urging, Buffy changed clothing and together they set out for Sunnydale Hospital. As they cut across the quad, Buffy spotted two familiar figures exiting the library. 

"Willow." She pointed. "It's Professor Walsh and her T.A. I have to see if she'll let me do a makeup test. Maybe if I talk to her right now, she'll say yes. It'll just take a minute." Without giving Willow a chance to protest, Buffy ran ahead and intercepted the instructor. "Professor Walsh, I have to talk to you. I know I missed the test in psych today and I'm really sorry. Is there any chance I can take a makeup test? *Please*." 

The professor pursed her lips. "You know my policy--no makeups unless you have a valid medical excuse. Do you?" 

Buffy looked down. "Well, not exactly." 

"You're out of luck, then." Professor Walsh turned on her heel and strode away. 

The teaching assistant, Riley, stayed behind. "Sorry about that, Buffy. She's not in a very good mood. But tell you what, I'll try to change her mind." He trotted after Professor Walsh, and Buffy watched as the two held a brief conversation that seemed to consist mainly of long-winded sentences from Riley and short answers from the professor. At the end of it, Riley caught Buffy's eye and mouthed "No" to her. 

Willow walked up beside her friend. "Well? How did it go?" 

"I am *so* screwed in that class," was all Buffy could say. 

***** 

Maggie Walsh was fuming as she stormed off to her car at the end of the day. She'd had to put with even more of the annoyingly stupid college students than usual, and foremost among them was Buffy Summers. The nerve of that girl, trying to get the schedule changed to suit her convenience after partying, drinking, and probably popping drugs the previous night, if rumor was true. And Riley, who used to be such a sensible, biddable boy, was making cow eyes at the child and trying to excuse her appalling behavior. 

Maggie proceeded to the darkest, farthest corner of the parking lot, stopped beside her car, and felt in her jacket pockets for her keys. They weren't there. She had probably tossed them into her bag earlier. Heaving it onto the hood of her car, she began to root through the contents. 

A soft scraping sound alerted her to the fact that she wasn't alone. Slowly, Maggie turned to the right, now feeling in the bag for a potential weapon. As her fingers closed around a cold, hard object, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was a young blonde man dressed in a leather jacket and puffing away on a cigarette. Probably a student, Maggie decided as she relaxed a bit. 

"Can I help you?" she asked. 

"As a matter of fact, I believe you can. I understand Buffy Summers is a student in one of your courses." The man spoke with a British accent, and Maggie filed that information away. Getting no reply, he proceeded. "I also understand Buffy missed a test today, and you don't allow makeups. I think you should make an exception this time." 

Maggie stiffened. "Oh? And why should I give Miss Summers a break?" 

"Buffy is a very special student. Let's just leave it at that. And while you're about it, you might give her a little leeway with her next assignment, as well." 

"Are you telling me to fix Buffy's grade?" 

The blonde man exhaled a long stream of smoke. "No, of course not. You can give everyone whatever grade you want, as long as they're all lower than Buffy's. Think it over. I'm sure you'll come to the right decision all on your own." 

As the stranger melted away into the darkness, Maggie forced her fingers to relax their grip on the gun in her bag. She couldn't say precisely why, but something about that young man greatly disturbed her.   
  
_end 14/? _


	15. Obsession

Last time: Buffy filled Willow in on recent events (the party, waking up at Spike's place; Willow insisted that Buffy go to the hospital to get tested for drugs. Professor Walsh refused to let Buffy take a makeup psychology test. A stranger (Spike) confronted Professor Walsh and suggested that she let Buffy take the test, and start giving her better grades. 

xxxxxxxx 

A hospital visit, an uncomfortable talk with Giles, and one day later, a disheartened Buffy and Willow gathered in their dorm room to discuss the situation. 

Buffy collapsed on her bed and fumed, "I can't believe we don't have anything on Parker. How could no trace of drugs have been found in my system?" 

"I was afraid that might happen," Willow admitted. "Like the doctor said, who knows what kind he used. Some of those drugs are undetectable in the blood within just hours of ingestion. And that Parker's got a nerve--saying you're lucky he didn't press charges against you for assault. Well, not actually 'saying' because of the broken jaw, but you know what I mean." 

"Yeah, the only bright spot of the past two days has been the sight of him with his jaw wired shut." Buffy smiled faintly at the memory. "At least he probably can't do much to anyone while it's healing. Now, if only I could put Spike out of commission for at least that long." 

"Speaking of Spike...." Willow sat up. "I've been thinking, and I came up with a different approach you could take with him. But I'm going to warn you ahead of time, you might not like it." 

Buffy waved a hand to denote permission. "Go ahead, tell me. I'm getting desperate. The last thing I need is a lovesick vampire chasing me around. How did I get so lucky?" 

"Okay, here goes." Willow took a deep breath and plunged in. "You aren't making progress the way you've been handling things so far so maybe if you play along with Spike a little, you can figure out what he's up to. Before you start saying I'm crazy, listen: You don't have to suddenly become best buddies or jump in bed with him, but at least try to be polite and have a reasonable conversation. Maybe he'll let something slip. You have a class with him. That would be the perfect time to start. He won't suspect a thing." 

Buffy was silent for a moment, thinking, before she replied. "I hate to admit this, but I think you're right, Willow. Only, I can't believe I have to be nice to *Spike*. That's gonna hurt. But he must have been telling the truth about taking out Sunday's gang, he helped me with Parker, and now I'm totally confused. Just answer one question: Why do I only seem to attract the undead, and total creeps?" 

"Xander, too," Willow reminded her. 

"Like I said... no, just kidding. Besides, if even I was interested, which I definitely am not, I think Xander's already spoken for. He's been spending an awful lot of time with Anya lately." 

"See, Anya is proof that not all demons--or former demons--are bad." 

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Trying to make a case for Spike?" 

"Not really, just pointing out that if he's really in love with you then he's pretty much harmless, which is of the good." 

"You have one thing wrong, Willow: It isn't love on his part, it's obsession, and it won't last. I won't let it." Buffy had already decided; she would put on an act to trick Spike, but that was *all* it would be. 

***** 

On Friday, Spike anxiously waited for Buffy to arrive in the composition classroom. He hadn't attempted to approach her since the disaster on Wednesday in his lair, and he wondered how she would react to seeing him again. Should he apologize? Probably. He'd done that a lot when he'd been with Dru, even when he hadn't understood why, and it had usually made things at least a little better. Maybe it would this time, too. Spike figured he needed all the help he could get with Buffy. 

He really did regret losing his temper and yelling at her. In fact, it was part of the reason he'd gone to have his little talk with Professor Walsh. After Buffy took the makeup test, surely she couldn't remain quite so angry with him. Maybe she'd even appreciate the efforts he'd taken on her behalf and start to realize his feelings were sincere. 

Spike checked the clock again, then glanced back at the doorway, and this time Buffy was there. She caught his eye and instantly looked away, but she still picked her way across the room toward her usual seat beside him. Spike looked at her more closely. What was that on her finger? It looked like... yes, it was the ring Spike had sent her. Pitiful as the thought was, the fact that she was wearing it was the first real sign of encouragement Buffy had given him. 

He prepared himself to grovel as she reached her desk, but Buffy started talking before he had a chance. "Look, about the other day... I was in a bad mood because I'd missed my psych test so I took it out on you. I know it was mostly my fault and I'm sorry." 

Spike was struck speechless. He had never expected to *receive* an apology. He quickly regained some of his wits and asked, "But the professor allowed you to make that test up, didn't she?" 

Buffy shook her head. "She wouldn't give me a chance because it's against policy. Once you miss a test in her class, that's that. She doesn't seem to like me much anyway so she was hardly going to make an exception for me. I even got a 'D' on the assignment she handed back today." 

"How could she do that?" Spike snarled. "That wasn't what was supposed to happen!" 

Buffy looked at him with wide eyes. "Um, Spike, your confidence in me is appreciated, I guess, but I'm hardly the world's best student. To be fair, I did go into that class knowing the testing policy. Plus, my other work isn't all that good. I mean, I don't think I deserve to get 'D' after 'D'--maybe 'C' after 'C' with a 'B' once in a while--but I can't do much about it except keep trying." 

'Maybe you can't, but I can,' Spike thought. Professor Walsh obviously hadn't listened to his friendly warning. He would give her one more chance before he took serious action. 

"Hello? Spike?" Buffy called. "You still in there?" 

"Yeah, Slayer." He shoved aside thoughts of Professor Walsh for the time being. After all, Buffy was being nice to him; actually treating him almost like an equal. Her sudden turnaround was almost too good to be true, but Spike decided to enjoy the situation now and worry about that niggling doubt later.   
  
  
_TBC_

_Yes, Buffy will start to soften toward Spike soon. Also, in this chapter I used btvsbaby75's suggestion that Buffy wear the ring to class. It worked well with what I'd been planning. :)_

_One more thing: I definitely will finish this story. It might take me a while yet, but it will get done._


	16. The Initiative

_I'm finally back from vacation and will be updating more regularly again._

Last time: Willow convinced Buffy to be nice to Spike in an effort to get closer to him and find out his secrets. Spike was angry to learn that Professor Walsh was still giving Buffy bad grades. 

***** 

Gifts 16/? 

Buffy and Willow were arguing...about how to deal with a particular problematic vampire. 

"Date? Spike? No!" Buffy set her lips in a firm line, not liking the idea much at all. 

"It's the only way," Willow insisted. 

Buffy glared at her. 

"Okay, not the *only* way, but a darn good one," her friend amended. "Look, you have to get closer to Spike, so ask him out on a casual group date and that way, you won't have to be alone with him but he'll appreciate the effort and you can worm more information out of him." 

"Group date. Hmmm." Buffy considered. "Could be worse, I guess. But where?" 

"A Halloween party." Willow indicated the wall calendar. "It's perfect. It's coming up soon, you have the night off anyway so you don't have to worry about patrolling, and it does seem oddly appropriate, doesn't it?" 

"Odd, yeah. Appropriate, no. All right, I'll talk to him about it," Buffy agreed. Dating Spike: just another sacrifice she had to make to keep the world safe from demons. 

***** 

That same day, Buffy had the opportunity to approach Spike about the date. She had figured she could talk to him after comp, but as she headed toward the building on her way to class she spotted Spike leaning against the door, right next to a "No Smoking" sign. He was puffing away on yet another of his disgusting cigarettes, and as he noticed her he straightened and stepped away from the door. "Slayer, hi." 

"Hi, Spike." She paused beside him, trying to avoid the smoke. "I wanted to talk to you about something." She bit her lip. God, this was hard. 

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Go 'head." 

"Umm, Halloween. Party. You and me." She sounded like an idiot, acting nervous over making a date with an evil vampire. Buffy pulled herself together and plowed ahead, almost choking on the words but determined to force out a complete sentence. "I was wondering if you would like to come to a Halloween party with me." 

Spike's face lit up. "Really?" 

"Well, Oz and Willow and Xander and Anya will be coming with us, too," Buffy clarified. "It's a group thing." 

Spike looked a little less thrilled at this news, but still receptive. 

"Yeah, I'll go with you." 

"Okay, well, I'll let you know exactly when and where as soon as I have all the details myself." A stray gust of wind carried a cloud of smoke straight into Buffy's face and sent her into a coughing fit. Why did that stupid vampire have to smoke, anyway? 

Spike looked down at his cigarette. "This bothering you?" 

"Actually, yeah, I can't stand the smell of those things." 

"Oh." Spike dropped the cigarette to the ground and crushed it out under his heel. "Sorry 'bout that." 

They both moved aside as a group of their classmates headed into the building. Buffy consulted her watch. "We're going to be late for class. Better get inside." Together, they proceeded indoors. Well, Buffy thought, one fake "date" with the vampire wouldn't kill her. At least, she hoped not. 

***** 

Spike was pleased. He was clearly making progress with Buffy. After all, she'd actually asked him out on a date. Okay, so it was a group date with her friends, but it was still a move in the right direction. Now, he had to do something for her. Professor Walsh was at the top of his agenda. Spike's minions had obtained the information he needed to use against her, but he'd give her one last chance before he took any drastic steps. So, once again, Spike lurked near the professor's car, awaiting her arrival. He could have cornered in her office, of course, but it was best to hold their little meetings away from curious ears. 

This time, it was still daylight when she approached her vehicle. Spike made no effort to hide, and Professor Walsh spotted him from a good 50 yards away. She hesitated for a brief, almost indiscernible, second, then proceeded on her way. As she inserted her key in the lock, ignoring him, Spike moved a little closer. "Good afternoon, Professor Walsh. Must say, I'm a bit disappointed. Can't follow simple instructions, can you? It's a wonder you ever graduated university." 

She yanked open the door and turned to face him. "Whoever you are, I'm reporting your actions to the dean. You can rest assured, your plot to help Miss Summers has backfired. I won't be pressured into altering her grades." 

"If that's the way you want it." Spike stepped back and watched as the professor, obviously startled at his quick agreement but not about to question it, got into her car and drove away. 

It had been a strategic retreat, of course. Spike hadn't really expected the woman to give in to his demands, though matters would have been much easier all around if she'd just quit before she fell behind. Humming to himself, he strolled over to the DeSoto, jumped inside, and peeled out of the parking lot. He had some reconnaissance to do. 

According to his most trusted minions, a demon-hunting operation called the Initiative had just recently set up shop in Sunnydale and they'd constructed an underground base that should be fairly simple to infiltrate with the aid of sewer access. Interestingly, Maggie Walsh had been spotted entering and leaving the base on several occasions. She was apparently a person of fairly high standing in the organization. Spike's plan was to sneak in, get an up-close look at the place, figure out some of its workings, and then use his knowledge to apply pressure to Walsh. 

He parked the DeSoto in a safe place and entered the nearest sewer. Spike was pretty familiar with the maze of tunnels, having used them in the past to navigate around Sunnydale, so it was easy for him to wind his way to the new not-so-secret base. He turned his senses on high alert as he drew close, not sure how much security might be present. 

Apparently, very little. The idiots must have assumed that any demons would be trying to break out, rather than in. As far as Spike could tell, the few heartbeats in the place came from quite a distance, probably way on the other side of the building. 

He crept along to the wall and had little trouble finding a door set into a dark corner. Spike slowly pulled it open and let himself inside. Still no signs of the enemy. He found himself at the end of a long, white hallway with several doors set on either side. Not getting any warning vibes, he proceeded along the hall. No nearby heartbeats, or any sign of demonic presence, either. 

At the end of the hall, Spike paused. He could go either right or left. He chose left and found himself looking at a series of cramped rooms that reminded him of prison cells. All were empty. 

Deciding not to press his luck any farther, Spike returned to the exit and lit up a cigarette. So, this place was the center of operations for his newest enemies. It was big. Sterile. Boring. He already didn't like it. 

The brief look he'd had was good enough for now. It had given him an idea of what he was up against. Spike didn't much like the thought of having to deal with human demon hunters, so he wasn't about to just leave the Initiative alone. The more information he could obtain about them, the better. In fact, the more allies he could rally against them, the better. It might be time to join forces with some of Sunnydale's unaffiliated demons. 

Preparing to leave, he took another draw on his cigarette, then frowned. Buffy didn't like his smoking. She had been very negative about it, in fact, claiming to hate the smell. That was a problem. Well, he could always switch to those herbal things, or maybe just quit altogether if that still bothered her. Spike flicked the smoldering cigarette onto the floor and slipped back out the door. He had some preparations to make. 

TBC 

_Spike will NOT be chipped, and the Initiative won't be around for long. In fact, it'll be taken care of probably in the next chapter. _

__


	17. No More Initiative

_Last time: Buffy asked Spike to the Halloween party. Spike again pressured Maggie Walsh to start giving Buffy better grades. Having found out about the existence of the Initiative, Spike went underground to check out the facility. _

Gifts 17/? 

It was shaping up to be an unbelievably easy day of school for Buffy. Professor Walsh, looking gray and tired, had announced that psychology class would run only half an hour that morning, and comp class had been cancelled. Buffy only had to sit through 30 minutes of boring lecture before she was free for the day. The time seemed to trickle by, but it eventually passed and Buffy grabbed her bag, eager to head out the door. 

"Don't hurry out so fast," Professor Walsh called. "I've graded your behavior-modification essays and you can pick them up as you leave." 

Obediently, the students filed to the front of the room to receive their papers. Willow and Buffy impatiently waited in line, accepted theirs, and then made their escape. 

Once in the hallway, Willow stopped. "What'd you get, Buffy?" 

"I'm afraid to look," Buffy admitted. 

"I'll go first." Willow flipped to the end of her paper. 

"Well?" Buffy prompted. "Don't keep me in suspense. What did the battle-axe give you?" 

Willow held up the page to reveal a large, red B+. 

"There go my chances," Buffy cracked. "If old Walsh only gave you a B+, I don't think her scale sinks low enough to evaluate my work. Is there such a thing as an F-?" She took a deep breath. "Well, I guess we'll see." Buffy stared at the last page of her paper in total silence. 

"Buffy? Buffy, what is it?" 

"My first A! Wow! Thanks, Willow, you're a lifesaver." Buffy enveloped her friend in a bear hug. She couldn't believe her luck. She might manage to pass pysch if she could just get a few more good grades. In fact, she was in such a great mood, she was even feeling charitable toward Spike. 

***** 

Speaking of Spike, he had been absent from Sunnydale for two nights and a day, collecting demonic allies in the surrounding communities who were willing to gang up against the Initiative. His work complete, Spike roared back into Sunnydale, blatantly speeding in an effort to arrive on time for his composition class with Buffy. It was the single hour her presence was guaranteed and he wasn't about to miss out on it. 

Despite his best attempt, when he finally skidded to a stop in the UC Sunnydale parking lot, he had missed at least 20 precious minutes of class. Moving at top vampiric speed, Spike rushed to the classroom, only to find... a placard on the door. The instructor was out sick and class had been cancelled. Spike whirled away from the room, swearing under his breath. He really needed a cigarette, only he'd quit cold turkey the night before last. Disappointed to have missed Buffy, he began to stalk down the hallway when he spotted her near the other end. 

She also noticed him and hurried over. "Spike, there you are." 

"You were looking for me?" It was a nice feeling, especially since it didn't happen very often. 

"Yeah, I wanted to tell you about the Halloween party. It's Sunday night in the Alpha Delta Fraternity House. We're all supposed to wear costumes and there are prizes, so start thinking about how you want to dress." 

"Yeah, right." Spike's enthusiasm cooled a little at the prospect of having to get dressed up like a ponce, but he consoled himself with the knowledge that he'd be there with Buffy. For once, she actually looked like she was in an excellent mood. Spike noticed the paper she was clutching in her right hand and pointed it out. "What's that?" 

"This?" Buffy displayed the last page. "Only the best news I've had in a while. I got an A from Professor Walsh for the first time!" 

"See, I knew you could do it." Spike felt immeasurably cheered. He had frightened Maggie Walsh into following his instructions, and Buffy was willingly talking to him. Things were definitely looking up. 

Even as he thought this, Buffy shifted awkwardly. "Um, well, comp class was cancelled so I guess that's it, then." She backed up a couple of paces, then stopped. "Hey, Willow and Xander and me were going to talk for a while. You want to come with us?" 

She almost didn't need to ask. Grateful for the invitation, Spike eagerly trailed Buffy to a picnic bench on the shady side of campus where Xander and Willow waited. Upon seeing him, Xander scowled and looked away, while Willow offered a tentative smile. 

As Spike could have predicted, conversation began rather awkwardly. He couldn't very well discuss his main activities with the others and Buffy clearly didn't want to get into her slaying, so Xander did most of the talking. Spike tried to pay attention. He really did. But Xander was rambling on about the latest odd job he'd been fired from and Spike could think of few less interesting subjects. He settled for staring at Buffy until she blushed and turned away. Then he contented himself with staring at the back of her head. 

The conversation drifted along but Spike didn't take any notice until a couple of intriguing phrases registered in his brain. They were "underground fire" and "mysterious facility." His head snapped up. "What was that?" 

"Huh?" Willow and the others stared at him. 

"That bit about an underground fire. Say that again." 

"Fire." Willow repeated. "All right, well, sometime the night before last, this fire destroyed a big building we didn't even know was underneath the Larson Park area. It was really weird. No one got killed but this whole huge facility was wiped out. We were wondering what would be down there to catch on fire." 

"It must have been some sort of demony thing," Buffy declared. "They're always lurking underground and building hideouts and weapons. It's a good thing this place got destroyed before they could use it to attack us." 

They *had* to be talking about the Initiative complex. Just in case, Spike probed, "Do they know how the fire got started?" 

"The fire chief said a cigarette probably caused it," Xander volunteered. "See how dangerous those things are, Spike? The smoking might not kill you, but if you ever set yourself on fire there'd be vampire flambee." 

"No worries, mate. The Slayer didn't like the smoke smell so I quit." 

"Wow, really?" Buffy stared at him. 

"Yes, really." A bit insulted that she'd questioned the veracity of his statement, Spike turned his jacket pockets inside out. "See? Empty." 

"No, I believe you. That was actually pretty... sweet of you," Buffy acknowledged. 

Xander began making gagging noises, which put a bit of a damper on the moment. Buffy immediately looked away from Spike as if she wanted to forget what she had just said, but he didn't mind too much. She'd said it, he'd heard it, and he'd remember it. He was wearing her down, slowly but surely. 

A thought then occurred to Spike. It seemed fairly obvious that *his* smoldering cigarette had been the trigger of the fire. So maybe he could impress Buffy even more if he informed her of the existence of the Initiative and his participation (however unwitting) in its amazingly easy downfall. Seemed like they'd had their demon-hunting gear up to date, but hadn't done the same with their fire-prevention system. He opened his mouth to begin bragging, then shut it as he reconsidered. So far, Buffy's reactions to his little escapades had been decidedly mixed. Spike couldn't be sure she'd approve of this latest one at all. Maybe he should just avoid mentioning his involvement. Not permanently, but for a year or two, until Buffy could see the humor in it. 

_Next chapter should be ready in a couple days. In it, Buffy and Spike go to the Halloween party. _


	18. Halloween Party

_Last time: Professor Walsh gave Buffy her first "A." Spike learned that the Initiative complex had burned down and the cause of the fire appeared to have been the lit cigarette he had left there. _

Gifts 18/? 

Since the Halloween party was being held on campus at the Alpha Delta Fraternity House, everyone had agreed to meet at Willow and Buffy's dorm room. Spike made sure to arrive a little early, thinking to get some alone time with Buffy, but his hopes were dashed when she opened her door and he saw Willow, Xander, and an unfamiliar girl already there, all dressed up. 

"Hi, Spike," Buffy greeted him. "We're all comparing costumes and I guess now that you're here we're just waiting for Oz to show up." 

Spike examined Buffy's outfit. She was wearing a 1950s-style dress that didn't make any sense to him. What kind of costume was that supposed to be? But she seemed to be waiting for him to comment on it, so he searched his mind for an appropriate compliment that wouldn't get him into trouble. "Very creative costume, there." 

Apparently, he'd said the right thing because Buffy smiled. "Thanks, Spike. I had to come up with something at the last minute and then I found this and liked it so it all worked out." 

"Well, good, then." Spike continued to hover in the hallway. He didn't have an invitation into this room, the one Buffy had moved into following her previous roommate's death, and he didn't want to push too hard by requesting one. On the other hand, he didn't want to be stuck outside while everyone else was welcomed in. 

Fortunately, Buffy seemed to get the hint without him having to say a word. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't even think about.... Come in, Spike." 

Buffy stepped back and Spike entered the cramped room. He eyed the other occupants. Xander was wearing a Zorro costume, Willow was dressed up as a robot complete with flashing lights and an artificial hand, and Xander's date was wearing a strange, bulky costume with antennae extending over her head. Spike took a closer look at the girl. Something about her seemed off, even aside from the fact that she was dating Xander. It was like she shouldn't be there, but he couldn't quite place the sensation. 

Noticing his intent gaze, Xander introduced them. "Spike, this is Anya. Anya, this is Spike. He's not nice despite whatever outrageous claims he makes so just avoid him." 

Ignoring Anya's greeting, Spike pulled Buffy into the hallway, and lowered his voice. "That chit, Anya. How well do you know her?" 

Buffy glanced back into the room. "Not all that well, I guess. Why?" 

"Something about her isn't right. I can feel it." 

Buffy looked startled; then she laughed. "I know what the problem is. Anya used to be a vengeance demon until earlier this year, when her powers were taken away. That must be what's bothering you." 

"Sure she's harmless? Those vengeance demons can pull pretty nasty tricks when they want." 

"Positive. Anya's okay. She's still getting used to being mortal and she tends to be pretty blunt but there's nothing to worry about with her. She's a friend." 

"If you say so." Spike allowed Buffy to lead him back into the room, where Xander stared at him with a puzzled expression on his face. 

"Where's your costume, Spike?" 

"I'm wearing it." Spike indicated his usual duster and jeans. 

"You're going as Billy Idol?" 

"No, you idiot. Watch." Spike vamped out and flashed his fangs at Xander. 

"A vampire? You're going as a vampire?" 

"Sure, why not?" Spike asked, remaining in demon form. "It's convenient, it's quick, and no one'll know the truth. I call that a good costume." 

"Or a lazy one," Xander muttered. 

"Xander, stop picking on Spike," Buffy ordered. She turned to Willow. "Did Oz say anything about being late?" 

"Someone mention my name?" They all turned to see Oz standing in the doorway, dressed in a gladiator outfit. 

"Good, you're here, great costume, let's go. We want to get there on time so we don't miss anything." Buffy led the way out the door, with Spike threading past the others to follow on her heels. 

They emerged outdoors and joined a steady flow of costumed students all heading the same way, and after a few minutes ended up at the fraternity house, a huge, dark building on the outskirts of campus. 

"Hurry up, costume judging's coming up soon," the boy at the door warned them as they filed inside. He glanced at Spike, then did a double take. "Hey, that's a terrific costume. How'd you do the makeup like that? I bet you'll win a prize." 

"Trade secret," was all Spike would say as he entered the building. He almost turned around and walked right back out at that moment. A cold chill crept up his spine, for a reason he couldn't name but that was no less disturbing because of that fact. The interior of the building, which was set up to look like a haunted house, contained the typical dark lighting and props such as spider webs and skeletons. All in all, the place seemed awfully amateurish to Spike. But he still had that strange feeling that something was terribly wrong. He pushed his way up beside Buffy and whispered in her ear. "This place isn't right. I think we should leave." 

"What do you mean, not right? It's a haunted house. It looks like one, doesn't it?" She waved at the decorations. 

Spike persisted. "Can't put my finger on it, but I know I'm right. It isn't safe here." 

Buffy turned to face him, her stiff posture screaming annoyance. "Look, Spike, I asked you along because I thought you could behave yourself and fit in with the group. If you can't do that, maybe you should just leave, because the rest of us are staying." She turned her back, signalling that her end of the conversation was over. 

If that was how matters stood, Spike wasn't going anywhere. He might not like the vibes in the house, but he had no intention of leaving Buffy to face the danger alone. He moved close to her side, staying alert for any hint of a threat. 


	19. Halloween Party II

_ I know, long time, no update. But I'm adding four new parts right now._

__

_Last time: Buffy, Spike, Oz, Anya, Willow, and Xander went to the campus Halloween party. There, Spike sensed something seriously wrong but Buffy refused to believe him. _

Gifts 19/? 

Buffy was not having quite the enjoyable night she had anticipated. An irritating vampire named Spike was grating on her last nerve. She jumped when he edged so close to her, he took up practically all of her private space. "Go away, Spike," she muttered between gritted teeth. 

He continued to cling to her side. "No way, Slayer. It isn't safe here and I'm not leaving you." 

"Well, even if you're right, I can take care of myself." 

Spike nodded at her friends. "And your mates, too? What if they get in the way of whatever's about here and you can't protect all of them by yourself?" 

"We've been in actual, genuine, obvious danger before and somehow we all made it through. Enough said." Buffy turned her back on Spike, wishing pretty strongly that she hadn't done such a stupid thing as invite him along. She should have known he'd be nothing but trouble. 

Thankfully, before she could be tempted to try to stake him again, a young man dressed in a ghost costume began urging people out of the room. "Costume judging is in a few minutes. Everyone who wants to participate, move into the other room." 

"Come on, guys." Buffy herded Anya and the others away from the refreshment table. "We don't want to miss the contest." 

They moved into the next section of the house and joined the other guests who were milling about, Buffy keeping an eye out for any potential problems. Just in case. However, nothing she saw raised any warning flags. As the judges evaluated the crowd, Buffy again tried to edge away from a persistent Spike. Of course, he had nothing better to do than to stick to her like glue. 

With a concerted effort, she managed to mingle and chat with a few other students and began having a better time before the prize winners were announced. As she half-listened to names she at best vaguely recognized, Buffy glanced across the room and spotted an unpleasantly familiar face. Parker Abrams, decked out in a Frankenstein costume that included his wired jaw, was also present. Damn! She'd had no clue Parker was around. It seemed like Spike had been right about something being wrong in the place after all. Parker's presence was enough to ruin her night. 

The announcer continued, "First place goes to William, in the vampire costume." Amid the applause, Spike weaved through the crowd to collect his winnings. "Good job with everything--the makeup and the eyes and the teeth look great. You'll have to tell us how you did it." 

"Yeah, right, later." Spike accepted his prize envelope, not bothering to look inside as he shoved his way back through the crowd toward the spot where he had left Buffy. She made sure to scowl at him, and he turned away in a huff. 

"What's wrong, Spike?" asked a sympathetic-looking Willow. 

"Something's not right here. This place is off." 

"It's a haunted house, doofus," interjected Xander, brave from his position on the other side of the refreshment table. "It's supposed to be spooky." 

"It's more than that," he insisted. "I can feel it." 

"Well, what are we supposed to do?" asked Anya with supreme disinterest. 

Spike looked her up and down. "You, ex-demon, are obviously going to do nothing. I don't know why I bother with you lot." 

"Cause we come as a package deal with Buffy," reminded Xander. 

"Guys," Buffy interjected before the conversation could turn ugly. "I hate to admit it, but Spike might have a teeny, tiny bit of a point. Parker is here." 

"What? Where?" Willow practically spun her head in a circle, she looked around so hard. 

Spike examined the gang with scorn. "They were too busy mingling and stuffing their faces to notice, I figure." 

"Do you want to leave, Buffy?" Willow asked solicitously. 

She shook her head. "Nope. Parker's presence makes me more determined than ever to stay. I bet he's up to his old tricks again, even with that wired jaw, and there's no way I'll let him trap another innocent girl who won't have the strength to fight back." 

"If you'd just give me the go-ahead to kill him, problem solved," Spike offered. 

Secretly, Buffy had to admit the idea held at least a little appeal, but it wouldn't do to encourage Spike to murder a human. Any human. Even a sub-human like Parker. "You kill him, and I'll never even look at you again." 

"Do it, Spike!" Xander yelled. 

Spike growled at his least favorite member of the Scooby Gang. Since he was still vamped out in his "costume," the effect was impressive enough to instantly shut Xander up. 

"Stop intimidating my boyfriend," ordered Anya. 

Spike turned to Buffy. "Remember what I said about wanting to save your friends? Forget those two." 

She really felt like screaming and never stopping, but instead Buffy glared at Spike and ordered, "Shut up. Just shut up and listen to me. We have to keep an eye on Parker and see if he tries to pull anything tonight. If he does, maybe we can catch him in the act and get some proof against him so the police can arrest him. At the very least, we can make sure he doesn't hurt anyone else." 

"Agreed," piped up Oz with his usual brevity. 

"We can explore the haunted house at the same time," pointed out Xander. He looked at his date. "What do you say, Anya?" 

She shrugged. "I suppose it is one of the points of the human celebration of Halloween. Therefore, I have no objection. But, like Buffy, I'm more concerned with monitoring this Parker. If I still had my vengeance powers, he would have been taken care of long ago." 

Buffy began to lead the way across the room to the place where she had last seen Parker. "Coming?" She looked over her shoulder. 

The others promptly lined up and trailed her the short distance, with Xander snatching an extra M&M cookie on the way. 

Buffy came to an abrupt halt, nearly causing Spike to careen into her. "He's not here." She began looking about desperately. "Where did he go? Do any of you see him?" 

"There!" Oz pointed to the far door. "He just went through there." 

"Great." Once again, Buffy took the lead and crossed to the door, yanking it open and continuing into the narrow hallway. She ducked under a low-hanging moon decoration and was about to move on when Spike's voice called from behind her. 

"Hold up, Slayer. Trouble back here." 

"What?" Buffy whirled to see Willow and Oz leaning against the wall, looking very unsteady on their feet. "What's wrong, guys?" 

"Don't know exactly," Willow explained. "I just feel really light-headed all of a sudden." 

"Ditto," Oz volunteered, slumping down a bit. 

"Here, let me help you." Xander reached toward Oz and staggered himself. "Or not." 

"I feel strange, too," Anya admitted, holding a hand to her head. 

"Whatever the hell is in here, it's trouble and now we have proof," Spike declared. "It's causing you lot to act all wonky. I've seen something like this once before. Let me think on it a minute." 

Through her concern about her friends' well-being, Buffy calmed herself as much as possible. So far, she felt fine and apparently Spike did, too. She only hoped that situation lasted. Could Spike have been right about something being wrong in the house? After all, he'd known something was off about Kathy and he'd sensed the same with Anya. Spike was an experienced demon. She should have given him more credit from the beginning. 

Spike snapped his fingers. "Got it! I think I know what's about. Some sort of witch is in this house, zapping up your essences of good. You'll keep feeling worse and worse till it drains you. Saw the same thing happen in Spain once. It was quite the massacre. We have to get you out of this house before it's too late. We don't have much time." 


	20. The Warlock

Through her concern about her friends' well-being, Buffy calmed herself as much as possible. So far, she felt fine and apparently Spike did, too. She only hoped that situation lasted. Could Spike have been right about something being wrong in the house? After all, he'd known something was off about Kathy and he'd sensed the same with Anya. Spike was an experienced demon. She should have given him more credit from the beginning. 

Spike snapped his fingers. "Got it! I think I know what's about. Some sort of witch is in this house, zapping up your essences of good. You'll keep feeling worse and worse till it drains you. Saw the same thing happen in Spain once. It was quite the massacre. We have to get you out of this house before it's too late. We don't have much time." 

Not bothering to question Spike this time, Buffy helped support Willow and Oz toward the front door, while Spike aided Anya and Xander. Once there, Buffy propped her weak friends against the wall and went to open the door. Only it refused to budge. She pulled again, checking to see if any strange sort of lock was engaged. Still no luck. "What's going on with this thing? Is it stuck?" 

"Here, let me try." Spike moved into position and gave a heave, which also failed. "I'm beginning not to like this," he muttered. He stepped over to the window and tried to push it up. Failure again. Spike then picked up a wooden chair and slammed it against the glass. The chair hit hard and bounced back, nearly flying out of the vampire's grasp but not even denting the window. 

"Okay, that was just plain weird." Buffy felt a shiver run through her. "What's going on? That window should have at least broken. In, like, a million or so bits." 

Spike turned back to her, frowning. "The witch must have cast an exterior spell that prevents anyone from escaping. Looks like your gang is in serious danger after all." 

Buffy glanced around. Her friends weren't the only ones who looked ill. Every other student in sight, with the exceptions of her, Spike, and Parker, was staggering. "If what you say about this witch is right, why hasn't it sapped my good essence, too? I don't feel at all light-headed." 

Spike grinned. "Because at the core you're evil like me, and that proves we belong together?" 

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Try again." 

"Truth is, it's because of your ring." Spike indicated her hand. "The one I gave you. It's enchanted, remember? Look how it's glowing. It's absorbing the witch's spell and protecting you from it." 

"Wow." Buffy stared at the ring. The glow was quite beautiful, she had to admit. Then she came back to her senses. "All right, I get why the spell isn't affecting me. I also get why it isn't affecting you, as an evil vampire. But what about Parker? He's moving around almost like nothing's happening." 

Spike shrugged. "Doesn't have much essence of good to steal. If not much is there, he won't be affected too badly. Might even survive the experience with no ill effects." 

"That is *so* not fair," Buffy muttered. "All right, then what do we do? We have to save everyone else." 

"Find the witch and kill it," Spike stated. "It's got to be inside somewhere, with us. We'll have to be careful, though. It's extremely dangerous, especially with all the power it's collecting." 

Buffy glanced at her groggy friends. "Will they be okay if we leave them?" 

"They won't be if we stay," Spike responded. 

"Good enough." Buffy moved close to Willow and the others. "Don't worry, Spike and I will take care of everything. You're all going to be fine." 

Willow managed a weak smile. "I believe you, Buffy." 

Buffy whirled and set off down the hall at a quick trot. "Hurry up, Spike. We need to take care of this thing now." She looked behind to see where the vampire was. Too far back for her liking. "Fine," she muttered. "We can cover more ground if we split up anyway." She made a quick turn and found herself at the foot of a spiral staircase that led up several flights. "Might as well start from the top and work my way down." 

She darted up the steps to begin her hunt. At the top, Buffy looked all around. She didn't see an obvious place to start so she just started randomly opening doors and peeking inside rooms. On the fourth one, she hit paydirt. A dark figure clad in loose robes was crouched over a glowing kettle, chanting in an unfamiliar language. Which only meant that it was a language other than English. For all Buffy knew, it could have been Spanish or German. 

She moved toward the being. To her, it looked like a male witch. A warlock. They still called male witches warlocks, right? Well, whatever. She was going to stop him from carrying out his evil plan. "Hey!" she called. "This is Halloween, you know. All you evildoers are supposed to take the night off, or did you miss the memo?" 

The warlock turned on her with a snarl, waving his hand and chanting. Buffy found herself slammed against the wall and pinned there by some powerful force. Damn, that thing was strong. A burst of light shot toward her, but made an abrupt turn and zapped into her ring, where it disappeared. 

Wow. Giles had been right about the ring's power. 

The warlock glowered and began chanting again, gathering more strength. Buffy braced herself for the next blow, figuring it was sure to be even tougher to withstand. She was helpless, barely able to move even her head, as her enemy turned on her. 

Then she heard them. Footsteps. Maybe Spike had tracked her and come to offer support. Buffy managed to glance toward the door, but her heart sank when she saw the figure who stood there. It was Parker, who was guaranteed to offer no help whatsoever. He hesitated, staring with wide eyes. The startled warlock promptly changed its target and shot its next bolt of energy at him. Parker flew backwards to flip over the guardrail and tumble down the spiral staircase. Buffy heard a distant thud that she assumed was the sound of his body hitting bottom. 

That could have been her, but for her Slayer strength and the protection ring. The warlock began to chant again, and Buffy struggled again to free herself from the binding. Giles hadn't taught her how to deal with magical attacks, and it wasn't like she faced them often. Sure enough, she couldn't find the strength to free herself. As the warlock raised his hands, Buffy was pretty sure she was doomed. 

Then backup arrived. All Buffy saw was a whitish streak as Spike flew across the room to pounce on the warlock. It flung him away, turning its magical attack on the vampire, but the break in action allowed Buffy a chance to break free and launch her own attack from behind. A series of quick blows later, she had pummeled her enemy to the ground. Buffy hesitated, seeing her rival seemingly helpless, but the stubborn warlock began to chant again. 

She sighed. "You really can't bear to make this easy for me, can you?" Before he could cast any other nastiness at her, Buffy yanked her stake out of the sleeve of her dress and staked the warlock through the heart. Inconveniently, he failed to revert to dust but at least he was dead. 

Slowly, she picked herself up, a little the worse for wear but not so badly off, all things considered. She could easily have been dead instead. In fact, if not for Spike, she probably would have been. 

Oh. Thinking about Spike reminded her that he was lying in the corner, motionless. Buffy darted over and fell to her knees beside him, fingers automatically reaching out to check for a pulse before she realized, of course, that he wouldn't have one. She gently pulled his head onto her lap and touched his face. "Come on, Spike, wake up." 

No response. 

"Spike!" Buffy yelled. "After all that, you'd better be okay." 

Finally, he stirred and opened his eyes. "A kiss--even a little one--would make me feel much, much better." 

"Oh, you--vampire! You were faking, weren't you?" 

"Maybe, maybe not," he said with an innocent expression. 

Buffy shoved his head off her lap, feeling a little justified when it thudded against the floor. 

"Hey, that hurt!" Spike yelped. 

"Yeah, well, you deserved it," Buffy informed him, but without a fraction of the heat her words would have carried earlier in the evening. Like it or not, Spike had saved her. Again. Maybe he did deserve just a little kiss. She leaned over and pressed her lips against his, very briefly but very distinctly, before she pulled away. "There. Now let's go check on the others." 


	21. Spike Haiku

A week had passed since the eventful Halloween party. Everyone except Parker had survived the incident with no ill effects. Willow started a rumor that the guests' light-headedness had been caused by a gas leak in the house, and that explanation soon gained general acceptance. As for Parker's death, the common theory was that he had accidentally fallen over the stair railing, which had led to his tumbling all the way down and breaking his neck. Since no one had admitted to witnessing the fall, however, the police had to investigate the possibility of foul play and they hadn't yet issued a statement as to their findings. 

Meanwhile, forced to view Spike in a different light, the Scooby gang had to admit that his actions had been heroic but he was still an evil, murdering demon at heart. At least, most of them thought that. Willow didn't contribute much to those conversations and Buffy also remained pretty quiet rather than launching into one of her usual anti-Spike harangues. 

Spike noticed that the gang had started to soften toward him, though of course the only member he really cared about was Buffy. Still, if her friends accepted him that could only help his cause. In particular, he noted that Willow had become friendlier. So on Monday, when he was on his way to his composition class to meet Buffy, he didn't mind running into Willow in the hallway first. 

"Hey, Spike, do you have a minute?" she greeted him. 

He checked the watch he had begun wearing just so he wouldn't be late for any Buffy-meetings. "Sure, got a little time before class starts." 

"Have you noticed something strange about Buffy? Well, not about Buffy herself exactly, but it concerns her." 

Concerned, Spike demanded, "What's that?" 

"Nothing bad. At least I don't think so," Willow assured him. "It's just strange. You do know that all of a sudden Professor Walsh has started giving Buffy much better grades in psychology class, right?" 

That was all? Spike instantly relaxed. "Slayer mentioned it. So?" 

"So...I wonder why. It came from out of nowhere and I can't figure it out. I mean, Buffy's not stupid but she shouldn't be getting A's on every assignment and test. I've looked at some of her work and it's like B or C level most of the time." 

Spike shrugged. "Can't help you there." He wasn't going to give away his secret, just in case Willow spilled to Buffy and she wasn't pleased. 

"Huh." Willow stared hard at him. "I really thought you might know something about that whole business. Guess I was wrong." 

"Yeah, guess so." Spike snuck another peek at his watch. "That all, then?" 

"Sure." Willow shifted her book bag to her other hand, then blurted, "You know, her work *has* improved since she started getting those higher grades. I think all she needed was a confidence boost. Whatever way she happened to get it." 

That statement told Spike that Willow had figured out his secret, but she wasn't going to blab to Buffy. "Whatever way she happened to get it," he agreed. 

"Well, I'll let you get going." Willow stepped around him and disappeared down the hallway. 

His little run-in with Buffy's friend nearly made Spike late to comp class, and he slipped through the door seconds before the instructor began his lecture. As always, he was in the seat next to Buffy's. From the way she kept glancing him and mouthing words, he knew she wanted to communicate something. But what it was, Spike had no clue. He had never mastered the art of lipreading. Finally, he shook his head slightly to let Buffy know that whatever her message was, it wasn't coming through. She frowned, then began to whisper very quietly. Yet despite his enhanced hearing, Spike couldn't figure out what she wanted to tell him. 

Frustrated by Spike's obvious lack of comprehension, Buffy picked up her pen and scrawled several words on a scrap of notebook paper. She then palmed the note and passed it across the aisle to him. Once it was safely in his possession, Spike flipped it over and read: "Just heard. Parker's death was ruled accidental." Beneath those words, she had drawn a smiley face. 

Spike wrote his response below. "Good news. Celebrate tonight?" Well, a vamp could always hope. With a lightning-quick motion, he threw the note onto Buffy's desk. 

She read it and sent back her response. "Bronze? Around 7?" 

"Perfect. Meet you there," Spike wrote back. He was a bit surprised Buffy had agreed to go out with him again. Although she had become friendlier in recent days, she unfortunately hadn't yet figured out they were meant for each other. But maybe she would come to her senses that night. 

Daydreaming and paying absolutely no attention to the droning voice of Dr. Petrovski, Spike began to compose a new poem in Buffy's honor. He wrote down several versions in different forms before completing one. Just as he set his pen down, he heard Buffy hissing at him and turned to look at her. 

"Hello!" sounded the very unwelcome voice of the instructor. "Buffy, William! Are you two trying to disrupt my class again? It was bad enough that you passed notes once, but to do it twice is simply incredible. You're adults and you should know better than to disrespect me and your classmates with your lack of attention." He strode over to their desks and grabbed Spike's poem from the top of his. 

"Hey!" Spike protested, about to try to snatch it back. 

"Spike, no," Buffy urged. 

He settled back into his seat with a groan and winced as the professor moved back to the front of the room, paper in hand. 

"Well, what do we have here that was so important it made William and Buffy cause that unpleasant disturbance? It looks like a poem." The professor cleared his throat and recited,   
"She ventures outside,   
Slaying with impunity.  
Golden effulgence." 

The class tittered, Buffy blushed, and Spike wished for a hole to open up in the floor and swallow him. He hadn't been so embarrassed since he'd been a mortal and his poetic efforts of that time had received much the same reaction. 

Dr. Petrovski cleared his throat. "Quiet down, class. I'm not quite sure what William had in mind when he wrote it, but this poem is an example of a haiku. Now, a haiku is a form of Japanese lyric verse...." 

***** 

As the instructor lectured on, using Spike's haiku to illustrate his point, Buffy glanced at the vampire. He was staring straight ahead, not sparing the slightest glance in her direction. In fact, he looked incredibly embarrassed. Well, he shouldn't, thought Buffy. The poem, which was so obviously about her, was pretty cute. Maybe that was why he was embarrassed. Master vampires didn't usually go around acting cute. Then again, she'd never heard of any vampire besides Spike attending college class or winning prizes at Halloween costume parties. He was definitely a special case. 

Buffy forced herself to at least try to pay attention to the remainder of the class, but was incredibly relieved when it ended. She wanted to talk to Spike, but he darted from the room before she could say a word. Throwing together her books, Buffy tore out after him and caught up halfway down the hallway, where she fell into step beside Spike. 

"Sorry about that stuff in class," she apologized. "I was just so excited about the news about Parker that I had to share it right away. I didn't know Dr. Petrovski would throw such a fit. It was kind of like being back in high school for a minute there." 

"S'all right," Spike mumbled, walking faster. 

"Okay, well, I'll see you at the Bronze tonight, right?" 

Spike stopped in his tracks and stared at her. "You still want to go?" 

"Yeah, don't you?" He wouldn't have changed his mind because he felt uncomfortable about the poem, would he? 

"No, I mean, yes. I mean, I'll meet you there." 

"Good." Buffy continued on her way downstairs to meet Willow, wondering if she should invite anyone else along to the Bronze or keep it just her and Spike. She finally decided it was best to meet Spike alone. He was more likely to open up to her if no one else was around. Judging from the fact that he had been writing poems in honor of her, he definitely was still interested. 

"Buffy." Willow fell into step beside her. "Class go okay?" 

Buffy shrugged. "More or less. Spike and I got yelled at for passing notes and I'm going to the Bronze with him tonight. Aside from that, not much happened." 

"Trying to make progress, huh?" Willow looked thoughtful. "Think you'll get anything out of him?" 

"We'll see," Buffy hedged. She started thinking about the poem again and smiled slightly. But something about it confused her a little. "Hey, Willow?" She turned to her friend. "What does 'effulgence' mean?" 


	22. Betrayal

That afternoon provided a good opportunity for a mini-Scooby meeting at Giles' place. Oz and Anya were unable to attend, but Buffy, Willow, and Xander all met with the Watcher and traded status reports. Not that there was much of consequence of trade, at least in the monster-fighting arena. Sunnydale had been very quiet since Halloween. Whether or not Spike had anything to do with the change was unknown. 

"So, no new disasters on the horizon? No evil prophecies or threats of apocalypse?" Buffy asked optimistically. 

Giles shook his head. "Not even a whisper. It's very strange and discomfiting." 

"Exactly," Willow agreed. "Makes you wonder when the other shoe is gonna drop." 

"When it does, I bet Spike is behind it," Xander chimed in. 

Buffy rolled her eyes. "When will you get off the anti-Spike kick? I never would have thought this even three months ago, but he's been pretty helpful lately. I'm beginning to think we can trust him." 

"Um, well, that's part of the reason we're all there today, Buffy." Willow refused to meet her eyes, which was always a bad sign. 

"What?" Buffy looked at Giles, who wore a guilty expression. "*What*? You're starting to worry me, here." 

"We were talking about Spike the other day," Willow began. "You know, the other day when you just happened to be busy and couldn't make it? So, anyway, we got into the issue of trusting him. I agree with you that maybe we can, but then again, Giles and Xander think maybe we can't. So we came up with a compromise." Willow reached into her backpack and withdrew a vial filled with a clear liquid. "It's a truth potion, Buffy. It took a while but I found one that should work on a vampire. All you have to do is get Spike to drink it on the night of a new moon and he won't be able to lie to you. He won't realize what's going on at the time, either, so you can ask as many questions as you want until the effects wear off. It should last for a few hours. You'll know, once and for all, why he came to town, what his true motives are, and why you haven't been able to dust him." 

Xander grinned. "Yeah, just think, it'll finally be over. Can you imagine how it will feel to be free of the specter of Spike hanging over us all, wondering when he plans to pounce? No more of that." 

Buffy looked at the vial and back at her friends. "Spike helped save your life, Xander. And Willow's, and Anya's, and Oz's. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" 

"Not really. I wanna know *why* he did it. I'm betting it was only to impress you for some sick reason. Not because he really cares. Once you give him what he wants, he'll turn on all of us. Deep in your heart, you know that's true. That's what Spike is all about--death and destruction and fear and pain. He's not some hero, you know. He's a vampire. A *soulless* vampire." 

"Buffy," Willow interjected, "it's not like we're saying you definitely have to use the information against Spike immediately. You might even like what you find out, you know. Plus, it should be easy to get Spike to take the potion. All you have to do is empty it into a drink and he won't be able to see or smell it. I know this is a touchy subject because of what Parker did to you, but it won't hurt Spike in any way whatsoever. The only effect it will have is to make him unable to lie. That's all. No harm in that, right?" 

"What are you more concerned about?" Xander jumped back in. "Your loyal, longtime friends, or an evil vampire who's come close to killing you more than once? Are you forgetting Parent-Teacher Night, or Halloween, or the time he kidnapped Willow and me to get the love spell? We all could have been dead probably a jillion times over if Spike had his way. Can you argue with my logic?" 

No, honestly, Buffy couldn't. She'd told herself pretty much the same things, more than once, and they were all true. Of course, Spike claimed he was different now, but she had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth. Or rather, she'd had no way until now. 

"Giles?" She turned to him. "What do you think?" 

He cleared his throat. "I believe Willow and Xander both raise valid points. I understand Spike's recent actions have been fairly admirable, but your faith in him may well be misplaced. You have an opportunity to learn what he is truly thinking, and you would be remiss to pass it up. Also, I would like to point out that the new moon begins tonight." 

Great, just what she'd thought he'd say. Buffy sighed and extended her hand. "Give me the potion. I'll take it, but I'm not guaranteeing I'll use it." 

***** 

She was due to meet Spike at around 7 at the Bronze. Buffy arrived 20 minutes early, trying to give herself enough time to reach a decision. On the one hand, all she had to do was feed Spike the potion, wait a few minutes for it to kick in, then ask pretty much any question she pleased and Spike would be unable to lie to her. Theoretically, it was a terrific idea. In practice, though, Buffy couldn't help feeling guilty, like she was betraying Spike. He seemed to trust her and she was seriously considering tricking him. Should she or shouldn't she? She couldn't seem to make up her mind no matter how much she thought about the matter. 

"Spike!" Buffy started upon seeing him materialize beside her. 

"Awfully jumpy, Slayer," he noted. "Something wrong?" 

"Wrong? No, nothing besides the usual slayage and school and that sort of thing." Her fist clenched around the vial in her jacket pocket. 

"Take your coat?" Spike offered. 

"No!" Buffy nearly yelled. "I mean, no, I'm a little cold." 

Spike raised a brow. The Bronze was its typical crowded, overheated self. 

"Maybe I'm coming down with something," Buffy covered up. "I'd better keep it on for a while. To be safe." Well, actually, she wanted to keep hold of the vial in a well concealed place, but she could hardly tell Spike that. 

He seemed to accept her lame explanation at face value, luckily, and started to sit down himself. Then he stopped. "Want a drink?" 

"A Coke, please." Buffy blurted the first thing that came into her mind and immediately started thinking of ways to slip the potion into Spike's drink. Then she started thinking of reasons not to. Then she thought about the disappointment on her friends' faces if she told them she'd failed. They did have good reason to be insecure around Spike. She owed it to them to follow through on their request. 

Buffy continued to wrestle with the situation while Spike was over at the bar. By the time he returned with the beverages, she had decided she definitely had to use the potion, for everyone's peace of mind. With that subject closed, she relaxed and tried to distract the vampire. "So, Spike, how are things with you outside of school? I mean, at home or whatever you call it." 

What she was really asking about his lair, although in a relatively delicate way. Spike took a long swallow of his drink before replying. "Actually, I'm moving to a new place soon. Got my eye on a house out near Restfield Cemetery." 

"Oh." Buffy couldn't help thinking about how Spike would probably go about procuring the house, and her hand again strayed to the vial. 

"I've been investing," he announced in the next second. "Real estate and the like. Nothing dishonest about it, whatever you might be thinking." 

"I wasn't thinking...." Buffy began, then admitted, "All right, so I was. How did you get the money to start investing in the first place, then?" Surely he had used underhanded means to begin building his nest egg. 

"Gambling. Greyhound races," Spike informed her. "Minimum bet is $2. Bet the right dogs and you can make a tidy sum." 

Another surprise. *If* Spike was telling the truth. Buffy kept running into that issue head on. "That poem you wrote today," she found herself saying. "That was about me. You wrote another poem about me before, after the party when Parker drugged me. Do you do that a lot?" 

Spike shifted in his seat. "Well, what's a lot? Once, twice a day? Don't worry, I throw most of them away. They're not good enough for you. Neither was the one that bloody teacher read today." 

"I thought it was nice," Buffy admitted. 

Spike looked at her sharply. "You did?" 

Buffy shrugged. "No one's ever written poetry about me before. But it would have still been nice even if someone else had." Spike looked pleased, which confused even more. He truly did seem sincere. Buffy took a deep breath. "Look, Spike, I'm going to ask you something and I want an honest answer. Why did you return to Sunnydale?" 

He stared at her. "What d'you mean, why? It's fairly obvious, isn't it?" 

"I want to hear you say it." 

"Fine." Spike shook his head in apparent bemusement. "Guess it still hasn't quite sunk in, huh? I came back because of you. Because I'm in love with you." 

Although she had more or less expected to hear those words, Buffy still flinched. Could she believe Spike? She opened her mouth. "I...." Closed it. She seemed to be beyond coherent speech. 

"Think about it, Slayer," Spike continued. "Why else would I waste one second saving the hides of your irritating friends? Not for fun. Why else would I stop killing? Yeah, that's right, I haven't scored one death since coming back to Sunnyhell. Because of you." 

Buffy honestly thought she saw sincerity in those soulless eyes, and that scared her more than anything else about the whole business. She jumped to her feet. "I want another drink. Do you want another drink? Cause I definitely do." 

"I'll get them," Spike offered. 

"No." Buffy waved at him to stay in his seat. "You got them last time. Let me do this. Is a Coke okay with you?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned and pushed her way up to the bar, where she placed the order. The drinks appeared in front of her moments later, too soon. She still hadn't decided. 

Buffy glanced back toward the table. She couldn't see it through the throngs of people. Which meant Spike couldn't see her, either. She fingered the vial. It wouldn't be very difficult to pour the contents into the drink. It was a small vial and she could do it so quickly no one would notice. 

If she did it, she'd be betraying Spike, a little voice inside her head reminded her. 

If she didn't do it, she'd never know the truth for sure, another little voice responded. 

Without giving herself a chance to change her mind, Buffy yanked the vial out of her pocket and deposited the contents into Spike's drink. 


	23. Drugged

_Last time: Willow, Xander, and Giles wanted Buffy to use a truth potion on Spike to see if he could be trusted. Buffy met Spike at the Bronze and decided to go ahead with the plan._

***** 

Buffy maintained a careful hold on the drinks, being sure to keep track of which one contained the potion. According to Willow's instructions, all she had to do was get it to Spike, wait until he drank it, and then ask him any questions she wanted with a guarantee of receiving honest responses. It seemed like such an easy assignment, as long as she kept the emotional aspect out of it. Like, how Spike would feel if he realized what she had done. But Buffy firmly blocked that thought from her mind, determined to go through with the plan. 

She proceeded back to the table and handed Spike the glass in her right hand. "There you go. Drink up." Buffy then sat down and gulped half of her drink before pausing. Spike, however, hadn't taken the hint, and his glass remained untouched in front of him. "Don't you like Coke?" 

"It's fine." As Buffy watched, Spike picked up the glass and took a few swallows. 

'Keep going,' she mentally urged him. The sooner he finished it off, the sooner the potion would kick in and she would be able to uncover the truth. Then she probably wouldn't have a single reason to feel guilty. Actually, by the time she was finished she would probably have at least a dozen solid reasons to be grateful she'd gone through with the scheme. Over the next 15 minutes, Buffy made idle chatter and practically willed Spike to finish up the drink. When he finally did, she breathed a huge sigh of relief. 

Spike looked sharply at her. "What's that about?" 

"Nothing," Buffy said quickly. "Nothing at all." 

The band onstage started to play a new song. "Want to dance?" Spike suggested. 

"No, I'm a little tired," Buffy lied. "Long day at school and all that. Can we just talk?" 

"Sure." 

Spike seemed perfectly satisfied with that suggestion, and Buffy's hopes rose. If she could start slowly by asking him a relatively innocent question, she should be able to tell if the potion had taken effect and move on to the more pressing issues. She began with a mild enough mention of an event from earlier that same day. "I was surprised to find out you were a poet, Spike. It doesn't seem like a very vamp-like hobby." 

He looked away. "I'd rather not talk about it." 

"But I want to know more," Buffy pressed. 

Though he still appeared reluctant to discuss the topic, Spike gave in. "I started back when I was a human. Wrote the most bloody awful poetry you could ever imagine. It's embarrassing even to think about it." 

"The one you wrote in comp class was nice," Buffy pointed out. 

Spike shook his head. "It didn't say what I wanted it to, but I keep practicing. Might get there someday." 

"Bet you wanted to kill Dr. Petrovski for reading it in front of the entire class. And I mean literally kill, not figuratively." 

"Yeah. I could almost taste the blood flowing down my throat," Spike rhapsodized, a dreamy look on his face. "It would have been delicious--hot and rich and strong." 

That settled it; the potion was working. Spike wouldn't have dared to be so straightforward otherwise, considering that he'd been making every effort to hide his cold-blooded, murderous side from Buffy. Satisfied, she jumped ahead to the most vital subject--the issue of Spike's invincibility. "So, going back to those memorable, not-so-long-ago days when I wanted nothing more than to stake you out of existence, there's something I want to know. It made no sense that I wasn't able to dust you that day in the woods when I found out you were back in town. I definitely tried hard enough. Let's face it, you shouldn't have been able to survive both the staking and the sun. How'd you do it?" 

"Gem of Amara," Spike promptly replied. 

"Giles mentioned that possibility," Buffy recalled. "But you haven't been wearing a ring or any other jewelry that I can see, and we figured that couldn't be the answer. So where *is* this gem?" 

Spike pointed to his chest. "Inside here. All it took was an incision and tucking it away. I'm not stupid, you know. If I wore the ring on one of my fingers, all anyone would have to do is pull it straight off to defeat me. But no one would ever guess it's buried in me." 

'Clever,' Buffy acknowledged to herself. Of course, now that she knew the truth, Spike's plot was shot to pieces. Not giving him the slightest insight into her thoughts, she continued. "There's another thing about you that surprised me. The average vampire--all right, every single other vampire except Angel--wants to kill me, but you say you're in love with me. How did that come about? Did you just wake up one day and say, 'Hey, I'm in love with the Slayer and I have to go send her anonymous gifts to soften her up'?" 

"It didn't go down that way," Spike answered. "Actually, Drusilla tipped me off. It wasn't exactly the news I wanted to hear at the time, but she was right." 

"You haven't had any doubts? No second guessing, even when I tried to stake you, and told you to go away, and threatened you?" 

"We're meant to be together. I know it, and you do, too. Even if you won't admit it yet." 

Spike was unshakable in his faith. He truly did love her. Buffy took a moment to absorb that knowledge and her feelings of guilt resurfaced with a vengeance, until she thought of a question Spike was sure to blow. He had already told her he hadn't been killing, but he'd made that claim prior to taking the truth potion. His answer post-potion was bound to be much different. "Spike, the fact remains, you're a vampire. You kill people. You must have drained dozens since you came back to Sunnydale." 

Spike shook his head. "Like I said before, not even one. I've fantasized about it, but that's different from the doing of it. And it's possible to drink without killing, you know. Most of us vamps don't bother to restrain ourselves, but we can." 

"And you have?" 

"Well, yeah." Spike's tone implied that his answer was the only possible one. 

"But what about all your minions? Where did they come from?" 

Spike shrugged. "Strays who needed a leader. Dime a dozen. I don't need to bother to turn anyone. Plenty of other vamps do it for me." 

Again, Buffy felt that uncomfortably crushing sensation of guilt. She attempted to shrug it off, though, and asked, "Why have you held off on the killing, when it's in your nature?" 

"'Cause every time I went out to hunt I thought about how you would feel if I offed a human, and I couldn't bring myself to do it." 

Wow. She was seriously influencing Spike. Who knew? Still... "It can't be quite that simple. I bet you'd like to kill Xander sometimes, for instance." 

"Of course I would. What self-respecting vampire wouldn't? That idiot is one of the most annoying, self-righteous twits I have ever had the misfortune to know. But he's also your friend and you would be upset if he died, so it's fangs off no matter how much I dislike him. Your other friends are all right, though, for humans." 

"You don't mean any harm to me or them?" 

"Haven't done any yet, have I? Won't in the future, either. Are you forgetting how I helped save the bunch of them at the Halloween party?" 

No, she hadn't forgotten. Buffy had to face the facts: Spike was telling the truth, and she and the rest of the gang had seriously misjudged him. She couldn't help feeling sick to her stomach at the thought. 

***** 

Spike violently shook his head and struggled to pull himself together. He felt like he was coming out of a fog. The last thing he knew, he had been at the Bronze. And then his memories blurred. He looked across the table at Buffy. They were still in the Bronze, and she was pale and shaken. In fact, she looked like she was about to throw up. 

Before he could become too concerned about her condition, Spike slowly, steadily began to recall all the probing questions she had asked him. At the time, it had seemed so natural to give complete, honest answers, but now it felt so wrong. He wouldn't willingly have told her all about the Gem of Amara. Not yet, when Buffy still so obviously didn't completely trust him and the truth could lead to his downfall. But he had. Without any logical reason. 

Only one likely possibility came to mind: The Slayer had somehow tricked him into giving away his secrets. She had been using him all along, pretending to be nice just to worm information out of him. Spike stared straight at her and saw realization dawn in her eyes. She knew that he knew, and she was bracing herself for his reaction. 


	24. Lies

Spike couldn't believe it. Buffy had pretended to be friendly and then betrayed him. What had he done to deserve that kind of treatment? Well, admittedly, he'd earnestly endeavored to kill her multiple times back when he still hated her, but that was all in the past. He had changed. He thought she'd realized that by now. But no, clearly not. She apparently didn't care about anything except tormenting him and permanently getting him out of her life. 

He shook his head again, attempting to clear it, and his gaze fell on the empty glass in front of him. Buffy had insisted on getting him a drink. She hadn't even waited long enough to hear what kind he'd wanted; she'd just bolted away from the table to go fetch it. At the time, he'd assumed she was simply nervous. Now, he suspected a far more sinister reason. Buffy must have drugged his drink. The very thought that she would go that far, especially after her own disturbing experience with Parker Abrams, struck to Spike's heart. And he'd thought he had a chance with Buffy. He had been deluding himself all along. 

"Well, now I know exactly where I stand, don't I," he snapped. Without waiting for an answer, Spike rose and swiped the table with his hand, sending it flying into the wall. With one final look at Buffy's shocked face, he turned and strode out of the Bronze. As he expected, Buffy made no move to follow him. 

***** 

Numbly, Buffy sat frozen in her chair, even though the table that had once stood in front of her was lying smashed against the wall. Around her, voices rose and startled exclamations echoed, but none of them registered in her brain. All she could think about was the betrayed expression on Spike's face. There was no doubt that he knew exactly what she had done. 

When she had gathered her wits enough, she got up and slunk out of the Bronze, wishing she could take back the entire evening. Or at least rewind it to the point before she drugged Spike's drink. That was the moment the night took a decidedly disastrous turn. She should have listened to her conscience and not done it, no matter what Xander or Giles would have said. 

And thinking of Xander and Giles, she had to report back to them and Willow. They were waiting at Giles' apartment to hear from her. Buffy was tempted to blow off the meeting, seeing that her emotional state wasn't the steadiest, but her friends would worry if she didn't show up. Likewise, if she phoned to say she wouldn't be showing up. She'd have to talk to them, keep the discussion short, and leave as soon as they'd let her. 

Arriving on Giles' doorstep, Buffy took a deep breath, tapped once on the door, and pushed it open. The second she stepped inside the apartment, Xander spotted her. 

"Buffy! What happened? We've been on pins and needles waiting to find out." 

Giles and Willow hurried over from the direction of the kitchen. 

"Do sit down," Giles urged. 

"Here. By me." Willow led Buffy over to the couch and settled down beside her. "So? We've been dying to hear the news." 

Oh." Actually, Buffy hadn't really considered what she should tell her friends. The entire truth, holding back no details? Or a carefully edited version, reporting only the facts and leaving out her feelings of guilt and doubt? She decided to start with the factual version. "I used the potion on Spike and it worked." 

"Good, good," Giles applauded. "And what did you discover?" 

"His feelings for me are genuine." 

"Eww." Xander made a gagging sound. "So what I did *not* want to hear." 

Buffy glared at him. "You would have preferred that Spike said he was using me for some sinister purpose instead of saying that he loved me?" 

"Basically, yeah, but you make it sound like a crap reason." 

"Maybe it is," she murmured. 

"What was that?" Giles asked. 

Buffy raised her voice. "Nothing. Anyway, Spike also said he isn't going around killing." 

"Now, that *had* to be a lie," Xander complained. "In fact, it's doing cartwheels and screaming it's a lie right in front of me." 

Buffy shook her head. "No lie. He drinks from people, but he stops before they die." 

"Oh, and that makes it all right, then. Because everyone loves to be used as a drinking fountain." 

"I didn't say that. I just said he hasn't been killing." 

"Unusual," Giles mused, "but certainly possible. Do go on." 

"Like, say, to the secret of Spike's invincibility?" Xander prodded. "We're all dying to hear it, and once we do, believe me, Spike will be dying for real. I'll be happy to stake him myself." 

Buffy hesitated. Xander clearly wanted nothing more than to use the knowledge against Spike. He wouldn't just let the matter drop. Could she live with herself if she told Xander the truth and he went out and harmed Spike? 

"Buffy?" Giles' concerned voice interrupted her thoughts. "Is something wrong? You did question Spike about his invulnerability?" 

She had to offer an explanation or the gang would really start to wonder. "Yes, I did. He, um, he told me...." She stopped again. She couldn't do it. "He told me the invincibility came from a ritual he performed, and it's permanent. It can't be broken or retracted or whatever." 

"Dammit!" Xander shouted. 

"But Spike also said he has no intention of hurting any of us. Even you, Xander." Buffy looked pointedly at him. 

Giles frowned. "Did he say anything else?" 

"That's pretty much it. The effects of the potion didn't last as long as I expected. I thought it was supposed to go for a few hours, but I got maybe 10 minutes out of it." 

Willow blushed. "I guess I must have measured the ingredients wrong or something. But it worked out anyway, right? I mean, you asked Spike all the important questions." 

"Yeah, all the important questions." 

Giles and Xander quizzed Buffy a bit more on the events of that night, but she couldn't relate any additional information. Except, of course, for the truth about the Gem of Amara, and she had no intention of passing on that knowledge to anyone else. Spike's safety hung in the balance. 

When she grew tired of the repeated questioning, Buffy made a show of checking her watch. "Wow, look at the time. And I haven't even patrolled yet tonight. I'd better get on that right away." 

Xander rose, too. "I have to go, too. I was supposed to meet Anya if things went all right here. Unless you need my help on patrol?" 

"No, I can handle it," Buffy dismissed him. 

Willow stopped her from leaving. "Mind if I tag along?" 

"Sure, come on. I'd like the company." 

They left Giles' place, with Xander going to see Anya while Willow and Buffy began checking out the nearest graveyard. After several moments of silence, Willow cleared her throat. 

"Why so quiet, Buffy? Did something go wrong tonight?" 

Buffy stopped walking. "Did something go wrong? I guess you could say that. I didn't want to trick Spike, but I felt like I had to so I could know the truth once and for all. At first it went okay. He was answering my questions and he didn't realize what I'd done. But then he came out of the trance or whatever and he looked at me and he *knew*. He was so upset." 

"He didn't hit you or anything, did he?" 

"No. He did push the table into the wall, but he didn't lay a finger on me. He looked like he was too disgusted to." 

"Oh." Willow bit her lip. "I should tell you, the real reason I mixed up the potion for you wasn't so we could find out Spike's secrets for the safety of the group. It was so you could know if he was being honest about his feelings for you. I guess my plan backfired, huh?" 

Buffy stared at her friend. "Willow, are you saying you're on Spike's side?" 

"Kind of. I mean, now that you know he's sincere you can work things out, right?" 

"Are you forgetting the fact that Spike's a vampire?" 

Willow shrugged. "I figure since I'm dating a werewolf, I'm not in much of a position to judge. Besides, you could do way worse than Spike. Like Parker, for instance. Remember, Spike stopped killing because of you. He quit doing something that's part of his nature. That says a lot right there." 

"Great, now I feel even worse." Buffy leaned against a tombstone and considered. "What should I do next?" 

Willow offered, "You can either forget the whole thing and hope Spike leaves you alone from now on, or you can apologize to him next time you see him and pick up from there." 

"Right. Thanks." They continued the patrol with Buffy deep in thought. The pervasive feeling of guilt ended up keeping her awake for a long time that night. 


	25. Bonfire

After the disastrous encounter with Buffy on Monday night, Spike lost no time in reevaluating his situation. He had tried his hardest and he had gotten basically nowhere. And he'd been called many things in his day, but never stupid. It was time to make some big changes in his life. Soon Buffy wouldn't have him to kick around anymore. 

He stormed back to his headquarters and flung open the door. "Everyone! Come over here, now!" Within moments, the majority of the pack had surrounded Spike and was receiving his instructions. Some minions were to locate the ones who had gone out hunting and bring them back. Others were to begin packing up their belongings. The rest were to go ahead to the new base Spike had selected and make sure it was ready for the big move. 

"Hey! You!" Spike pointed to a dawdling minion who had managed to get on his nerves within the first minute. "Bring me that chair. Not the plastic one; the wooden one." The minion hesitated, and then slowly retrieved the item. Spike smashed it on the floor, selected a jagged piece of wood, and rammed it into the other vampire's heart. After the explosion of dust cleared, he announced, "That's what happens when you don't move fast enough. All of you, *go*!" 

The room was cleared before he could count to 10. For the next few hours, Spike remained downstairs to supervise. He only had to dust two more minions during that period, which wasn't too bad. The others, fearful of their master's dismal mood, scurried about gathering up and toting out all boxes of supplies that had been deemed too important to merely abandon in the warehouse. Eventually, the last room to be cleared out was his own. Spike had ordered that no else one enter it. He had definite plans for the remaining contents. 

He loped up the stairs and into the room, positioning a large cardboard box in the center of the floor. Then he began throwing items into it: poems, sketches, photos, anything that reminded him of Buffy. He topped off the box with his composition textbook and assignments. He thought he had everything. One more check of the room and he would able to leave, forever. Then Spike's eyes fell on an envelope lying on the floor. He had never opened it, but it contained the prize he had won at the Halloween costume contest. He snatched it up and added it to the pile. Satisfied that he had collected everything he needed, Spike grabbed the box and lugged it out, leaving his room for the last time. 

***** 

On Tuesday, despite patrolling for an extra hour, Buffy saw no signs of Spike. She proceeded to composition class on Wednesday with the hope that he would at least show up there. She even turned up early in case he did, too. But as class began, no Spike was present. Buffy clung to the possibility that he might come in late, but no such luck. She slumped low in her seat and prepared to wait out the hour until the instructor dismissed the class and she could retreat to the privacy of her dorm room. 

"All right, class, you all have your papers ready, right?" Buffy glanced down at the theme she had thrown together the previous night. "Good. I'm going to put you in pairs so you can read and evaluate each other's work. We have Erin Andrews and Amber Bast; Tim Black and Chris Broski; Rick--" 

Buffy tuned out the words, absently fiddling with her pen. She'd love to simply walk out of class rather than endure the full hour, but she was trapped. 

"William Stafford and Buffy Summers," Dr. Petrovski continued. 

Buffy's head snapped up. Had Spike entered when she wasn't looking? She wildly checked around the room, only to realize that he was still nowhere to be seen. She sank back into her seat, willing the time to pass quickly. Instead, every minute felt more like an hour. Buffy had never been more glad to escape from a classroom when the time finally came. She bolted outside and nearly collided with Willow, who was lurking in the hallway. 

Steadying herself against the wall, Willow eagerly demanded. "Did you get a chance to talk to Spike?" 

Buffy shook her head. "He wasn't in class today. He obviously didn't want to see me." 

"Oh." Willow looked thoughtful. "Well, you know, it's only been a couple days. I bet he shows up on Friday." 

"You think so? Why?" 

"Spike's stubborn. He doesn't give up easily." 

The more Buffy thought about it, the more convinced she became that Willow was right. Spike was definitely mad at her, but he was bound to turn up on Friday. Then she would have an opportunity to apologize and explain her actions. And who knew? She might even run into him on patrol before then. 

For the next two days, Buffy kept extra alert for any trace of Spike. She saw none, which was disappointing, but she knew her big shot would come on Friday. He would turn up in class. He had to. That day, she waited until the last minute and then entered the room with a strong feeling of confidence. She paused inside the doorway and the other students' faces, looking for Spike first so she could sit by him. No Spike... no Spike... no Spike... She finished the last row and he wasn't there, again! 

"Buffy, will you be joining us today or are you just going watch us all hour?" 

Dr. Petrovski and her classmates were staring. Buffy stared back. She wasn't going to waste her time listening to another boring lecture. Not today. She turned on her heel and fled. 

Spike was more than just a little angry, she had no doubt now. He must be furious. So much for waiting for him to come to her. She had to see him as soon as possible to try to straighten out the situation. Textbooks and all, Buffy darted across campus and proceeded at top speed toward Spike's lair. She'd only been there once, the night Parker had drugged her and Spike had rescued her, but she remembered the way with no trouble. Spike was probably there. Or if he had gone out his minions should all be home, trapped by the daylight. She would make one of them tell her where she could find Spike. Within the hour, they would have discussed and resolved matters. 

A few minutes later, Buffy arrived outside the grimy warehouse. She threw her books down and shoved the door open, a little surprised that it wasn't locked. The inside of the place was both dark and disturbingly empty-looking. In fact, *too* empty-looking. Odds and ends of furniture lay scattered about, like they had been shoved around by someone who was in a hurry. And then she saw it. In the middle of the cement floor stood a large pile of ashes and charred bits of whatever had been burnt. 

With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, Buffy crept closer to the remains. She identified the spine of Spike's composition textbook, the metal spiral of his notebook, and his handwriting on a scrap of paper that had escaped the carnage. It was another poem about her. Spike had burnt it. To be more precise, Spike had apparently burnt anything that had any connection to her. 

The inescapable conclusion? Spike wanted nothing more to do with her. 


	26. Ritual

_Just a one-chapter update this time. Lately I've been posting three parts at a time but I thought I'd get all caught up today so it's a relatively short update. I don't know; do readers prefer bigger updates less often, or smaller ones more often? Anyway, I'm getting near the end of this story and I'll try to have it all done within a week, but we'll see._

***** 

Almost a full week had passed since Spike had last seen Buffy. In that time, he had moved his home base to an abandoned mansion that was several steps superior to his old location. It wasn't the mansion on Crawford Street, though. Spike couldn't have received a bribe big enough to compel him to live there. No, this mansion was a place of his own choosing, on the opposite side of town. It had recently been inhabited by a family of Fyarl demons, but with some persuasion they'd moved out, whereupon Spike and his pack had taken up residence. 

Sure, he could have left town to lick his wounds. Instead, Spike had chosen to stay in Sunnydale, at least for the time being. He wasn't going to allow Buffy to rule his life anymore. She no longer exerted any influence over his actions. Except for the fact that he never wanted to see her again, and thus avoided any place she was known to frequent. That primarily meant the college, the Bronze, and the cemeteries. So far, he had been successful in keeping away from her. 

Of course, if Buffy wanted to find him, she shouldn't have any real trouble. News traveled fast on the demon grapevine. All she would have to do was demand the information from Willy. But Spike hadn't seen a trace of her since Monday night. Her absence just proved what he had already figured out: Buffy had been using him, and once she got what she wanted it was goodbye, Spike, hello... well, hello, anyone else, for all he knew. The situation was hardly fair. 

Spike had no doubt that Buffy had instantly reported back to her friends with every single word he had spoken after drinking the truth potion. They knew it all, including his most damaging secret: the existence and location of the Gem of Amara. They could take him down. It would be easy for them. All they had to do was catch him and dig open his chest in their search for the Gem. Once it was removed, a quick stake to the heart would dust him. And dusting him must have been Buffy's objective all along. 

Yes, Spike was going stir crazy waiting for her little gang to come after him. Why hadn't they made their move yet? After all, Buffy had gotten what she wanted. All of his secrets and his pathetic, emasculating feelings for her were laid out in the open. He wondered how many hours she and her friends had spent laughing at him and his stupidity. 

He couldn't take the suspense anymore. He had to find out what they were plotting and when they would strike. It had been almost seven full days since that awful night when they had learned the truth. They must be drawing out the attack just to torture him, to try to make him break. Instead, Spike was going to take the fight to them. 

He set out from the mansion into the morning sun, making up his plan as he proceeded. Buffy and Willow would be on campus in classes today. Oz and Anya were potentially anywhere. That left Giles and Xander, who were his biggest threats anyway, aside from the Slayer. If a plot to dust him existed, Giles would be the mastermind behind it and Xander would be its biggest proponent. Spike knew he stood little chance of intimidating Giles or persuading him to give up any details, but Xander was a different story. He was the weak link. All Spike had to do was make his way to Harris' house, catch him alone without his precious friends to protect him, and frighten the truth out of him. 

Through his stalking of Buffy, Spike knew exactly where Xander lived. He had taken up residence in the basement of his parents' house. He also had been proceeding through a succession of crappy part-time jobs and might even be in between gigs at the moment. In short, the likelihood was that he was home. Arriving outside the house, Spike noted a rust trap of an old car parked in front. It had "Xander" written all over it. 

The stumbling block was his entrance into the house. Spike had no invitation. But fortune was smiling down upon him. As he walked toward the front door, it opened and a woman who looked about the proper age to be Xander's mum stepped outside, evidently preparing to leave. 

Taking a chance, Spike greeted her. "Hello, Mrs. Harris. I'm calling to see Xander like we arranged the other day, if that's all right." 

"Oh. Well, go on in." She moved away back from the door, having given Spike the invitation he needed. "Xander's in the basement." 

Spike smiled. "Thank you. You don't know how much I appreciate this." He entered the house and waited until the woman had driven away in her own ratty car before he listened for heartbeats. The only one in the building came from the basement. Perfect. He had Xander all to himself. 

Spike trotted down the basement stairs and emerged into the dim, unpleasant little space. It was about the sort of place he'd imagined Harris having, all right. Only, where was his victim? Spike glanced around. There! Emerging through a doorway at the far end of the room was Xander. Spike grinned and waited patiently for the idiot to spot him. 

It took a good 10 seconds, when Xander had crossed the room to his TV set, before he noticed the intruder. "Ahhhh!" 

Spike winced at the ear-piercing cry. "Hello to you, too, Harris." 

"Spike! What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?" Xander looked around wildly. 

"Your mum. Very accommodating lady." 

"Um, we are talking about *my* mom, right? 'Cause it doesn't really sound like her." 

"She just left the house and gave me an invite in. How convenient." 

"Thanks, Mom," Xander muttered. "Of all the times to be hospitable. Well, what do you want, Spike? Or, I have an idea. Why don't you just get the hell out before I stake you?" 

Spike tensed and began checking about for any sort of trap. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't be the least bit afraid of Xander, but the kid knew his secret now. In fact, Spike wouldn't put it past the idiot to try to pull a stun gun on him and capture him before yanking out the surgical knife. 

But what was this? Xander was backing away and looking nervous, like he had no sort of protection at all. He was even rambling on about something. "Look, I didn't mean. And Buffy will really hate you if you decide to have one of her friends for breakfast or lunch or whatever it would be to you." 

Now, this was interesting. The boy was afraid of him, and didn't seem to have the first clue as to how to take him down. A faint suspicion entered Spike's mind. Was it possible...? "What's this, Harris? I thought you were going to stake me all by yourself?" 

Xander laughed nervously. "I know that isn't possible. I mean, since you're invincible and immortal and all because of that ritual you performed. I could stake you, but it wouldn't hurt you so there's no point." 

"Ritual," Spike repeated, keying in on the lone word of importance amidst the babble. "What do you know about a ritual?" 

"Only what Buffy told us, that you performed it and it can't be reversed and now you're undustable. I didn't really mean I was going to stake you. I wouldn't do that." 

Spike didn't bother to dignify that comment with an answer. He was too busy trying to think of the best way to get the truth out of Xander. "Let me get this straight," he said, speaking very slowly and clearly so the moron couldn't possibly misunderstand him. "Last Monday after Buffy drugged me, she came back and told you and the rest of her little gang about the invincibility ritual I had performed that I told her about while under the influence of the potion. Right?" 

Xander nodded. "Yes! Exactly!" 

No longer interested in Harris, Spike turned and left. He had learned something very important. Xander didn't have the guile to lie to his face and get away with it. Therefore, Buffy had misled the gang about the Gem of Amara. Which meant she hadn't betrayed him. But why? Spike was curious. Too curious, he realized. He would have to pay Buffy one last visit, if only to find out why she had lied to her friends. 


	27. Almost the End

Somehow, Buffy held things together on Monday, making it to early evening before exhaustion hit her. She flopped down on her bed and watched as Willow prepared to go out to meet Oz. 

"Hey." Willow looked over at her. "You want to come with, Buffy? Oz won't mind." 

"No, I'll just stay here." 

Willow hesitated. "You want me to stick around and keep you company?" 

"Go on," Buffy urged her friend. "I'm going to take a nap. You know I haven't been sleeping so well lately so this is a good chance to catch up. All the curtains are closed, it's pretty dark in here with the lights out, it'll be almost like night." 

"All right, as long as you're sure." Willow hovered halfway to the door, undecided. 

"I am." Buffy waved her away. "Go out and have a good time. I'll be fine. Won't even know you're gone." 

"Okay. Bye." 

Buffy waited until Willow had departed, then turned off the light and collapsed onto the bed, ready to sleep straight through to the morning. Her head had barely hit the pillow, though, when the phone rang. Buffy groaned and pulled the pillow over her head, but the shrill noise continued. Five rings, six.... 

She gave up and grabbed the phone, yanking it toward her without bothering to flick on a lamp. "Hello?" 

"Hi, Buffy?" 

"Yeah." She pushed herself into a sitting position and pressed the phone closer to her ear. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. "Who is this?" 

"Oh, sorry. Riley. Riley Finn, Professor Walsh's T.A.?" 

"Oh, no." Alarm ran through Buffy, forcing her wide awake. "Did Professor Walsh hate my latest paper? I thought I was doing so much better in that class. Do I have to meet with her or something?" 

"No, nothing like that. This is personal. Me calling you. I mean, I was wondering, are you busy tonight? Or tomorrow night? Or any other night?" 

"What?" She had to have misheard. 

"I'm doing this all wrong. Let me start over." Riley took an audible breath and continued. "Buffy, I'd like to go out with you sometime. Whenever you're free. On a date." 

"Wow." That was the last thing Buffy had expected to hear him say. She thought about the prospect for a moment and couldn't manage to work up the slightest bit of enthusiasm for the idea. "Look, Riley, that won't work out." 

"Oh." His disappointment carried across the phone line. "Is it because you got back together with your ex-boyfriend?" 

"Who?" 

"That blonde guy with the accent. I haven't seen you two on campus together lately so I thought you broke up and I might have a chance. Am I wrong?" 

"We were never really... well, we were, kind of." Buffy sighed and gave up on trying to explain her nebulous relationship with Spike. 

"You broke up with him and he doesn't want you to see other men anyway? That sounds weird. Then again, Professor Walsh told me he was dangerous." 

"What?" Could she possibly know Spike was a vampire? 

"She'd kill me if she knew I told you this so please don't say anything, but she thinks your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, whatever, is in the mob. I know it sounds crazy but she really believes it." 

Buffy started laughing hysterically, partly out of sheer relief. "Spike, in the mob? That's a good one!" After taking a few deep breaths to get herself back under control, she told Riley, "I don't know where Professor Walsh got that impression, but it's not true. And I can't go out with you. It's not you, it's me. I'm sorry." 

"Okay. Well, I guess I'll see you around." 

"Yeah. Goodbye." Buffy hung up the phone with a tremendous feeling of relief. Riley seemed like a decent guy, but his timing sucked. She hoped she'd let him down with the proper mixture of kindness and firmness, so he wouldn't be too disappointed but he also wouldn't call her again. She shoved the phone onto the cradle and turned to lie back down, when she spotted a dark figure just inside the doorway. Buffy couldn't help jumping in surprise. "Willow! What are you doing back so soon? You nearly gave me a heart attack!" 

The figure didn't reply, instead just taking another step toward her. 

"You're not Willow," Buffy realized. She was about to attack first and ask questions later when the intruder flicked on the overhead light, revealing himself to be Spike. 

***** 

Spike studied the Slayer, who was curled up in her bed staring at him with wide eyes. Under other circumstances, he would have enjoyed the experience a lot more, but he was there to hash out a serious matter. He'd cautiously waited outside until he knew she was in her room and alone before he made his move. Buffy was getting careless; hadn't even bothered to lock the door. 

Her eyes flickered to the side and then back to him. She had probably automatically been looking for a stake until she remembered that one would be useless against him. Unless, of course, she was planning a Gem of Amara retrieval operation all on her own. That was what Spike had to find out. 

"Buffy," he greeted her coolly. "We have to talk." 

"About what?" 

Spike just looked at her. Buffy had the grace to blush, as if she realized the answer to her question was pretty obvious. 

"All right, we can talk," she said, sitting up in the middle of her bed. 

Not finding much of a choice, Spike pulled the wooden chair away from her desk and appropriated it for his own use. Buffy had earned herself big points by keeping his secret, but he had to find out why she'd done it. "I paid a visit to your mate Xander today." 

"Huh? Why would you go to see Xander?" 

"Because I don't like being tricked and left hanging. Last week you learned all my secrets and for all I knew, you could have told the world the way to dust me for good. I actually believed you *had* told your little gang. So what's a vamp to think? That the lot of you would come after him and end his unlife. But you didn't, and that made me curious. That's why I went to Xander's place. To find out why he hadn't gone stake-happy. He acted just as afraid of me as always when we're one-on-one. Said something about me still being invincible. He's not a good enough liar to fool me. He really believed what he said, which means you didn't tell him the truth about the Gem." 

Buffy looked him in the eye. "No, I didn't and I don't plan to in the future." 

She sounded convincing, but could he trust her? "Why not?" 

"Because I tricked you and you didn't deserve to be treated that way. I made a huge mistake." 

"Feeling guilty?" Spike scoffed. 

"Yes," Buffy whispered. 

"Good." He stood up and turned to go, perversely satisfied. 

"Spike, wait!" Buffy's voice called him back. 

He turned around. "What?" 

"I'm sorry about the whole mess. I didn't realize it would turn out like it did and I feel bad." 

Spike waited. "What do you expect me to say?" 

"I don't know. Not that it's all right, 'cause I understand that it isn't, but maybe that you forgive me." 

"Tell me why I should." 

"What?" She stared at him. "Um, because I forgave you for trying to kill me all those times in the past?" 

"Never heard those words come out of your mouth," Spike reminded her. 

"They were implied." 

Spike considered. "All right, I'll accept that. But my efforts to kill you were different than your tricking me. They were business. Besides, you also tried to kill me more than once, so I'd say we're even on that count." 

"Can't you just accept that I'm sorry?" Buffy pressed. 

"I suppose I can, seeing that you didn't tell Xander the truth about the Gem," Spike allowed before making a clever effort to dig up more information. "Unless you told someone else? Like, say, Willow or Giles?" 

Buffy shook her head. "No. I made up something about a ritual you performed that made you invincible. It didn't make much sense but they believed it." 

"Fine." Spike shrugged. Her story meshed with Xander's version. "Over and done with, then." He again started for the door. 

This time, Buffy jumped up and ran over to stop him. "Where are you going?" 

"Home. We talked, I accepted your apology, I'm leaving. That's the end of it." 

"No, it isn't," Buffy insisted. "You said you loved me. You can't fall out of love just like that. I know you're mad at me. I understand that. But you can't leave things like this." 

"Why not? You never once said you had any feelings for me besides disgust and hate. Seems to me I've been wasting my time on you." 

"No, you haven't. All right, at first I wasn't exactly receptive, but your persistence could probably wear anyone down. It got to the point where I could actually see and admit that you have good qualities." 

"So what are you saying?" 

"I guess... that we can wipe the slate clean and start over?" 

"Give me a minute." While Buffy waited for his response, Spike weighed his options. He'd nursed his wounded pride for a whole week. Maybe it was time to let go of it and see if they really could patch up things. Maybe Buffy would give them a chance after all. "Meet me at midnight, night after tomorrow, in Restfield Cemetery. Don't tell anyone and come alone. You do that, and we can talk." 

With that, he left the dorm room. What happened next was up to Buffy. 


	28. The End

_This is the last part. _

***** 

As he waited behind a crypt in Restfield Cemetery near 12 a.m. two nights later, Spike fidgeted and reached for his pack of cigarettes before remembering that he'd quit smoking. Because of Buffy. If she didn't show up, that would really prove his stupidity. And if she showed up with backup and a plan to stake him, he would look worse than stupid. Spike had already more or less convinced himself that Buffy genuinely regretted having drugged him, but the longer he stood outside alone, the more his doubts grew. 

True, it wasn't yet midnight, but why hadn't she arrived already? *He* was there. Had been for nearly an hour. He always seemed to be waiting for Buffy, never sure if she would come. He was probably wasting his time. She'd given him little more than minimal encouragement even on a good day. In fact, she was probably sitting back in her dorm room laughing at the thought of the idiotic vampire who was lurking around a graveyard in the middle of the night waiting for someone who'd never had any intention of meeting him. 

Spike had just about talked himself into giving up and retreating while a few shreds of his pride remained intact when he heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. He peeked around the corner of the crypt, not getting his hopes up until he saw who was there. It could be another vampire, or a typically brainless Sunnydale resident just begging to be eaten. 

Only when Spike looked, the person turned out to be Buffy. Of course, that fact wasn't immediate cause for celebration. First, Spike studied the area around her, hunting for signs of any other presence. He had to know if she'd come alone, like he'd requested. 

Buffy's steps faltered as she reached the outskirts of the graveyard and she looked around, clearly uncertain. She stopped, paced forward a few steps, and stopped again. "Spike?" 

He didn't answer, waiting to see what she would do. 

"Spike!" Buffy called again, a little louder. When she again failed to receive a reply, she heaved a sigh and angled her arm in an effort to read her watch face despite the darkness. 

Spike didn't hear or see anyone else in the area. Finally satisfied that Buffy was alone, he stepped out from the crypt and approached her. "Over here, Buffy." 

She jumped and whirled around, visibly relaxing when she saw him. "Spike, are you going to make a habit out of startling me?" 

"But you make it so easy." He crossed over to her and took her arm. "C'mon, let's get out of here." 

Buffy obediently trailed him out of the graveyard and along the street, but balked when they reached the DeSoto parked around the corner. "Why did you want me to meet you out at the cemetery if we were just going to leave right away?" 

"It was a test," Spike explained, opening the passenger door for her. 

Buffy's voice rose in indignation. "You were testing me?" She quickly amended her statement. "All right, not that I didn't deserve it. So, I take it I passed the test?" 

"If you get in the car, you will." Spike impatiently waited for Buffy to think this over and climb in, whereupon he slammed the door and went around to the driver's side. 

As he started the engine, Buffy asked, "So what are you up to? Where are we going?" 

"You'll see." 

"Are we past the whole 'truth potion/big mistake' deal? I guess I should have asked you that before I got in the car." 

"I figured out why you did it. You had to know. Now you do. I made a few mistakes myself, I admit. For instance, anonymous gifts probably weren't the best initial approach to take with you." Choosing to ignore Buffy's muttered, "That's for sure," Spike turned right sharply and drove the DeSoto through a narrow path in the woods, ending up in a clearing at the top of a hill. "Here we are." He parked and got out, Buffy joining him. 

She looked around. "What's up here?" 

"Everything." Spike gestured at the panorama of Sunnydale spread out below them. The town was mostly dark, but a few lights here and there illuminated various sections. Spike had actually planned for this moment. He pulled a blanket out of the backseat of the car and spread it on the hilltop. "Come sit down." 

Buffy did, and began, "I've been thinking a lot about this. About us, or a potential us. Sometimes it seems natural, and other times it seems like the craziest thing that could happen. After all, you're still a vampire, and I'm--" 

"The Slayer," Spike picked up for her, "and we're supposed to kill each other. I've heard it all before, but it doesn't always work that way. Don't you think we're both special cases?" 

"Yes. In fact, before you interrupted me, I was going to say that I've changed some of my opinions about you, and I know you've changed your life for me." 

"Right," Spike agreed. "I quit smoking. Didn't even take up those herbal things afterwards." 

"I *meant* that you had stopped killing." 

"Oh, that." 

"Yes, that. That's a huge deal." Buffy looked at him and added slyly, "From there, it's only a matter of weaning you over to refrigerated blood." 

Spike shook his head. "That's where I draw the line. No bagged lunches for me. I drink warm, fresh, human blood straight from the source. Can't alter my basic nature *that* much." 

"You can't say that for sure, Spike. You know, you're never too old to change." 

"Good. I'll wait." 

Sensing she was fighting a losing battle, Buffy backed down. "So like I was saying, I've been giving a potential relationship with you a lot of thought. Of course, I came up with some reasons why it wouldn't work, and--" 

Spike interrupted. "Let's do it this way. You tell me all your possible objections and I'll tell you why they don't matter." 

"All right. For starters, Xander definitely won't like it." 

"Luv, Xander will probably never approve of anyone you date unless it's him, so stow that objection." 

"Well, Xander would vote a definite *no*, but I figured out we have more support than I would have expected. For some reason, Willow approves of you. Plus, Oz will go along with her. And Anya, well, Anya won't care what we do, but that's better than being against it. That means we already have a majority opinion in support of us. Or at least neutral to the idea. On my side, anyway. What about *your*...friends?" Buffy ventured, referring to the vampires under Spike's command. 

"My minions?" Spike waved a dismissive hand. "Won't matter what they think, seeing that they'll be dust soon. Stupid--the whole lot of 'em. Do you have any idea how long it took them to get cable TV installed in my lair?" 

"So much for loyalty." 

"You'd dust 'em if I didn't," Spike pointed out, which was so obviously true that Buffy didn't even bother to argue with him. "Next objection?" 

"Different ways of life," Buffy brought up. "You've traveled all over, and I'm stuck monitoring the Hellmouth. You do vampire things all night and I do Slayer things. Our lives don't exactly mesh." 

"I don't mind settling down for a while. As for the 'vampire things' I do, I can get my violence out by helping you on patrol. What else?" 

"Um...." Buffy hesitated. 

"That's it? We're done?" 

"Wait!" Buffy blurted. "My mom..." 

"Likes me," Spike finished smugly. Okay, so she had probably liked him a lot more when he wasn't dating her daughter, but surely he'd win her over to his side. "So? Anything else standing in our way?" 

***** 

Buffy had already touched on their main problems, and Spike had pretty much cleared them away. Still, she almost couldn't believe she was holding this sort of conversation with him. As recently as three months ago, she would have laughed herself sick at the very thought of being even the least bit friendly with Spike ever again. 

Speaking of Spike, he was waiting for an answer to his question. "Well?" 

"I think we've about covered things." 

"Have I convinced you it can work?" Spike prompted. 

Buffy hesitated before answering. If she said no, she could go back to her Spike-less college life. She no longer had any doubts that he would leave town if she told him to. In many ways, things would be a lot simpler if he was gone. On the other hand, she could say yes and they could try to make a go of it. She looked at Spike and found she really didn't have a choice to make. It had probably been inevitable from the day he'd returned to Sunnydale. 

She shook her head. "I don't know exactly when or how you did it, Spike, but you won me over. My life hasn't been normal ever since I was called. Why try to change that now?" 

"And that means...?" 

He looked uncertain, so Buffy helped him along. "Come here, Spike." She pulled him down into a kiss, a move he definitely understood, judging from his enthusiastic reaction. 

After an enjoyable few moments, Spike finally leaned back and looked at Buffy. "You're sure, then? No backing out? No more obstacles?" 

"Just one," Buffy decided. "Giles is going to throw a fit! But who cares?" 

_End of the whole thing! As you can see by the dates, I started posting in June and here it is November, but it's finished. Hope you enjoyed, and leave a review on the way out if you like. :) _


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